Zombies and Shit

by Carlton Mellick III

  When Heinz returned home to his father covered in blood, his father was furious. Heinz proudly told him the story of how he stood up to those Japanese insects.

  “You idiot,” his father yelled. “You’ve ruined everything!”

  Heinz didn’t understand.

  “I’ve spent twenty years trying to get to the position I am at now. There are only three other members of the Brotherhood who have infiltrated the Platinum Quadrant.”

  “The Brotherhood?”

  “The Brotherhood of the Fifth Reich. Our mission is to take this island from those slanty-eyed rodents and convert this nation into a proud Aryan state, under Nazi control. We have people in key positions all over the island. When you were old enough, you too were supposed to play a crucial role in the uprising. Then you went and murdered the sons of important government officials.”

  “It was self-defense,” Heinz said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” his father said. “You don’t have a future anymore. You can’t stay here.”

  “Where will I go?”

  “Pack your things,” his father said. “I’m going to send you off of the island, to join the others.”

  “What others?”

  “The rest of our forces,” said his father. “The Fists of the Fifth Reich.”

  Heinz fights his way into the lobby of the building, the zombie mass flooding in behind him. The door to the stairwell is electronically locked. With his back against the wall, he has no other choice but to get through this way. He uses the sledgehammer on the window, which is just a thin strip of plexi-glass down the upper left side of the door. The first blow does nothing. The second swing creates a popping noise. Heinz turns around and blows fire at the mob as it closes in. With the third swing, he uses all of his strength. He won’t have time for a fourth.

  “Brains!” cries the mob of molten flesh reaching for him.

  The glass breaks open. Heinz sticks his hand through the hole and opens the door from the inside. He enters and shuts the door behind him. The undead reach their arm through the slot, but likely aren’t intelligent enough to get the door open.

  Heinz climbs the stairs, using the tiny flame of his weapon to lead him through the dark. As he takes the first flight, he hears the sounds of the undead in the stairwell a few floors down. They are coming up from the underground parking levels, attracted to the echoes of his human footsteps.

  The nazis claim there were five notable reichs in history. The Holy Roman Empire was the First Reich. The Great German Empire of 1871-1918 was the Second Reich. When Adolf Hitler was in power, he created the Third Reich which was the birth of Nazism. The Fourth Reich, formed by postwar neo-nazis, was an underground movement that attempted to bring nazi values back to the Aryan people. Now there is the Fifth Reich, which formed soon after Z-Day, after the fall of civilization.

  It started with a group of neo-nazi skinheads who had survived in a bunker in Tennessee. They welcomed all survivors into their facility, but only Aryans who supported their ideals were allowed to join them. All others were fed to the undead for their amusement. They grew in numbers until they were able to embark on an exodus toward the coast, where they found their new home for the next forty years: a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier. And, like most nuclear-powered vessels of the time, it had enough uranium fuel in its reactors to last them for several decades.

  After they cleared the ship of naval zombies and claimed it for their own, they named it the Fifth Reich.

  Their mission was to redesign the new world in the way God had intended: a world dominated by the one true master race. They created a breeding program. Aryan women became breeding slaves whose only purpose was to bear their young. Only the purest, strongest, and most intelligent Aryans were allowed to breed with them. Heinz’s father was born through this breeding program. He was bred to be a leader, a man who would one day bring their ideals to the people of Neo New York.

  Heinz was delivered to the aircraft carrier by a small fishing boat, owned by brothers of the Fifth Reich living in Copper. On the boat ride over, Heinz imagined how majestic this colony of Aryans must be. A nation of proud, mighty white men. But when he arrived, it was not at all as he expected it to be. Things had changed greatly since the day his father had left the Brotherhood to infiltrate the island of Neo New York.

  The people on the ship were starving and weak. They had long lost hope of ever taking the island. And worst of all, they were no longer proud of their race. Since the majority of them had never even met a member of another race, they didn’t understand what was so special about their own. They didn’t understand their own magnificence.

  “What is wrong with these people?” Heinz asked the Captain of the ship. “They are weak and have no spirit in them. Do you call this an army?”

  The Captain leaned back in his chair and put his shredded boots onto his desk.

  “It hasn’t been an army for a long time,” said the Captain. “Not since I’ve been in charge of this ship. My predecessor was your grandfather, a stubborn idealistic fool who was so determined to build a grand army that he didn’t realize that we didn’t have the food and resources to support so many men. He overpopulated the ship. The men were starving, but your grandfather didn’t care. All he cared about was preparing for a war that was never going to happen.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He was killed by his own men. After he cut their rations down to a fifth, his men couldn’t take it anymore. They shot him dead one night while he was sleeping. As his second in command, I took over the ship. I promised these people we would focus entirely on our own survival and forget about the war. You might think those men out there are starving and weak, but they are much better off than they were five years ago.”

  Heinz slammed his fist on the table.

  “Better off?” Heinz yelled. “They would be better off dead than the pathetic wretches they have become. Your men are the Fists of the Fifth Reich. They should have the intelligence to thrive even in the harshest of circumstances. If you were a proper leader you would not have let this become of your men.”

  “What the fuck do you know, kid?” the Captain said. “Since birth you’ve lived in the luxury of the Platinum District. What do you know of hardship and survival? You’ve had everything you could possibly want.”

  “I have not lived long in Platinum. I was born in the slums of the Silver District.”

  The Captain laughed. “The slums of Silver? Any one of these men would kill the both of us just to live one year in Silver. Even the people in Copper have better lives than most of the men on this ship.”

  “It doesn’t matter where I’m from,” Heinz said. “I am Aryan and I will not allow my people to live like scum.”

  “Get out of my office,” the Captain said. “I’m through talking to you. You’ll learn soon enough.”

  “And you’ll learn just what a true Aryan can do,” Heinz said on the way out the door. “The Fists of the Fifth Reich will be strong once again. Stronger than ever before. I will make certain of that.”

  “Sure, kid. Just get the fuck out of here.”

  By the end of his first day on the ship, Heinz decided he would make it his mission to bring pride back to these fallen people. He would bring them out of the muck and restore them to the great people they were destined to be.

  When Heinz arrives at the lighted floor of the office building, the door to the stairwell is wide open. He looks up ahead to see the lights coming from an office a few doors down. He shuts the door behind him, and creeps toward the sound of voices.

  “You’re making me sick,” says a female voice.

  Another female voice giggles and moans.

  “It’s so fucking hot,” says the other voice.

  “It’s disgusting.”

  When Heinz peeks around the corner into the room, he finds two women in punk clothing. The one with the green hair is facing the other, completely naked with her hands in her crotch, her back arched. Upon closer ins
pection, Heinz realizes that the green-haired punk has a severed zombie head in her lap. All of its teeth have been removed so that it doesn’t bite into her. She writhes and moans as the zombie licks and gums her clit and labia, trying to eat her flesh. Black slime leaks from the corpse’s cheeks down the girl’s inner thighs.

  “Make me cum,” Gogo tells the zombie head, then she licks her lips at the camera ball floating above them.

  Popcorn is sitting on the floor, cringing at her friend’s unsettling display. She watches as Gogo whimpers and sweats with ecstasy.

  “Oh fuck,” Gogo cries. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  As she comes closer to orgasm, Gogo shoves the head so hard into her crotch that the zombie’s lower jaw breaks in half. She pulls the head beneath her body and presses all of her weight against it, crying out as she cums. The skull cracks open like an egg and her ass crushes it flat against the seat of the chair.

  When Gogo stands up, stretching and rubbing the zombie goo covering her buttocks, she looks down at the remains of the zombie head. It is now just a puddle of bone and slimy meat on the chair. One of its eyeballs rolls to the side of the mush to stare at Gogo as she rubs its liquid flesh up her crotch to her breasts.

  “That was amazing,” she tells the remains of her undead lover.

  Popcorn drops her face into her hand and groans. It was bad enough her friend had sex with that corpse, but rubbing its rancid jellied flesh on her body goes too far. That smell is going to linger. Popcorn doesn’t know if she’s going to be able to handle being around Gogo for very long. When Popcorn takes her hand away from her eyes, she sees a man standing in the doorway over Gogo’s shoulder.

  Heinz steps into the office with a look of disgust and rage on his face. When Gogo turns around to him, she goes for her submachine gun on the desk. Heinz kicks her in the chest and she falls back. He casually takes the machine gun from the desk and points it at them.

  “You filthy whores,” Heinz says to them. “How can you degrade yourselves in this manner?”

  Gogo laughs at him. Heinz steps forward and backhand slaps her so hard she falls to the ground. While the nazi isn’t looking, Popcorn flats her bangs into her face so that the guy doesn’t see the bullet hole in her head.

  “My eyes tell me that you are Aryan women. Perhaps your ancestry is not Nordic or Germanic, but you look at least Celtic or Anglo-Saxon.”

  The girls have no idea what he’s talking about. Those raised in Copper are usually ignorant of race and ancestry.

  “You whores dishonor your race,” Heinz says. “It is bad enough that you defile your beautiful white skin with tattoos and metal jewelry, and conceal your blonde hair behind unnatural colors, but you also do this.” He points at the puddle of zombie head twitching on the chair. “You corrupt your pure flesh by this shameful disgusting act.”

  Gogo snickers again, but then holds her tongue when she sees the fury in his eyes.

  “You are Aryan, you should be proud of your race,” Heinz told a group of teenagers about his age. They were on the deck of the ship, drinking homemade liquor and lying around when they were supposed to be working in the greenhouses. “You look like a bunch of pathetic mongrels. Your laziness shames your race.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” one of them told him.

  Heinz went to the boy who spoke, took the bottle out of his hand and tossed it overboard.

  “What the hell did you do that for?”

  Four of the boys stood up to him.

  “I’m helping you become a proper Aryan,” he told them. “Liquor makes you weak.”

  One of them pushed Heinz. “I’m going to beat the fuck out of you, rich boy. You come in here and tell us how to live? You lived on the island your whole life. What do you know?”

  The boys closed in on him.

  “I know that you’ve let yourself become weak and lazy,” said Heinz. “I know that you won’t be able to lay a finger on me, because all of you have forgotten how to be strong.”

  One of the boys came at him from behind. Heinz dodged and elbowed him in the stomach. He punched two others in the face and tossed the fourth face-first into the ground. The rest of the boys got up and came after him, but one at a time he knocked them down. When it was over, Heinz was the only one standing. The others lay on the ground, gripping their sore ribs or bloodied faces.

  Heinz went to the first of them, towering over him with his blond hair blowing in the ocean wind. The kid cowered beneath him.

  “Brother…” Heinz said, holding out his hand to the bloodied kid. “Don’t cower like a worm. You are Aryan.”

  The boy stopped cowering and took Heinz’s hand.

  As the boy got to his feet, Heinz patted him on the shoulder and said, “Come with me. I will teach you how to be strong.”

  The other boys stood up and gathered around him. It was the beginning of a new army of the Fifth Reich.

  Popcorn notices Heinz is carrying Brick’s sledgehammer. Her heart sinks in her chest when she realizes what must have happened to her boyfriend.

  “Where did you get that?” she says, pointing at the hammer strapped to Heinz’s back.

  Heinz glances over his shoulder at it. “I took it from one of those walking corpses.”

  “That was Brick’s weapon!” Popcorn cries. “My boyfriend. Is he okay?”

  Heinz frowns. “I’m sorry to say, but your boyfriend has joined the ranks of the living dead.”

  “I know that,” she says. “But was he okay?”

  Heinz is confused by the question.

  “He’s at peace,” Heinz says. “I incinerated his remains earlier today.”

  “You mother fucker!” Popcorn says, getting to her feet.

  She holds herself back from charging the guy and ripping out his throat. The submachine gun pointed at her belly holds her at bay.

  “You were planning on fucking his corpse like your whore friend, weren’t you?” Heinz asked. “It’s a good thing I saved you from such blasphemy.”

  A loud crash out in the hallway causes the two girls to jump. Heinz backs up into the hall, his gun still pointed at the girls. Behind the door to the stairwell, a crowd of zombies have gathered, slamming on the door and shouting. The glass has broken out of the window and three skeletal arms reach through. When they see Heinz in the hallway, the zombies thrash wildly.

  “Brains!” the zombies cry.

  “Cerebros!” cries a Mexican zombie.

  When Heinz recognizes the Mexican zombie, his eyebrows curl with disgust. He marches toward the door, aims the submachine gun through the window slit at the undead Mexican, and fires until the zombie’s face is shredded with holes. As he turns away, two figures race across the hall.

  “Run,” Rainbow yells at Gogo, as the two girls try to escape from the crazed nazi.

  Gogo lags behind her friend, trying to put on her clothes as she runs. Heinz fires the machine gun at the ceiling. Because the gun is silenced, the noise isn’t intimidating enough to get Popcorn to stop running.

  “Don’t move, whore,” Heinz says.

  Gogo stops in her tracks, but continues dressing herself. Heinz goes to her with the barrel of the gun pointed at her face.

  “Tell your friend to come out or I’ll put a bullet in your head,” Heinz says.

  Gogo opens her mouth to yell to Popcorn, but instead she pukes all over Heinz’s shoes. The puke is a rancid pile of rotten zombie intestines, brains, half-digested flesh, and the head of a zombie dick. Heinz steps back at the offensive smell.

  “Call your friend,” he says, shifting his face away from the direction of the vomit.

  Gogo coughs and gags as she pulls a long intestine from her throat. As it plops on the ground, she spits and wipes green acidic mucous off of her tongue with her fingers.

  “Call your friend!”

  Gogo looks up at him with disgust, then stands up and does as he says. Popcorn doesn’t make an appearance.

  “If you don’t come out your friend is dead,
” Heinz says. “I’ll give you only three seconds to come out.”

  Gogo looks up at Heinz’s shiny forehead as he points his gun at her.

  “One,” Heinz says.

  Gogo is becoming aroused by the look of his forehead. The way it gleams in the dim lighting. The smoothness of his white Aryan skin. She wants to lick it and rub her body against it.

  “Two.”

  Licking her lips and inching forward, Gogo’s eyes go wild with hunger, realizing that it isn’t his forehead that’s attracting her but the brain inside of his skull. She wants to bite open his skull and pull out his brain. She wants to put it between her legs and fuck the brainstem.

  “Three.”

  Gogo opens her mouth and goes for Heinz, but the nazi shoves the silencer down her throat.

  “Don’t!” Popcorn cries, stepping into the hallway. “Don’t shoot her.”

  Gogo sucks on the silencer seductively, eying Heinz as if she wants to eat him alive.

  When Heinz sees her giving the gun a blowjob, he pulls it out of her mouth and pushes her back.

  “Disgusting whore,” he says. Then he turns to Popcorn. “Don’t try running away from me again. Next time I will fire without warning.”

  Gogo rubs her breasts and smiles at Heinz. Everything about the nazi is beginning to turn her on. From his uniform to the way he holds his weapon to the electricity flowing through the nerves under his skin. As she rubs her breasts, she feels a stiffness in her chest. She presses her hand to her chest and listens closely, but doesn’t hear anything. She no longer has a heartbeat.

  “So, we now have only minutes before those walking corpses get through that door,” Heinz says. “Help me find a way out of here and I might let you live.”