The zombies were largely unfazed and just kept coming. That was nothing new. Chuck could have launched a tactical nuclear warhead and they would have ignored it. Hunger was their only concern, not being shot or incinerated in an explosion. Theirs was the simple life, eat and eat, then eat some more.
Before I knew it, Chuck was thrusting a rifle and two pistols into my hands. Half dazed, I fumbled with them for a moment, nearly dropping the two pistols, before understanding what I needed to do. Chuck was a man in motion as he grabbed another cannister and stepped forward.
About fifteen feet away, one of Jeb’s men who was only half dazed swiveled around and started to bring his weapon up on Chuck. Chuck’s hand darted to his chest and his wrist flicked like greased lightening. A split second later, the man dropped his gun and screamed. Both his hands went for his face where a ninja throwing star protruded from his eye socket. A small gout of blood shot from the man’s face and he pitched over and rolled on the ground in agony. Chuck could have easily shot the guy, but he must have wanted to stay in stealth mode at that time.
Chuck Norris was no longer number one bad ass any more. Chuck the badass ninja janitor was the man that night. To complete his first act performance, he tossed another cannister into the midst of Jeb’s men.
“That’s just gas,” he said to me.
I looked for our people and saw Rosalita on the ground a couple dozen feet away, holding her hands to her face. Dave still stood, but wobbled around rubbing his eyes, looking dazed. Joni must have seen the flash bang grenade in flight because she had pulled the kids close and huddled over them.
Many of Jeb’s men stumbled about stunned while others stayed locked on the approaching zombies and not so much on us. A few gun shots were fired, but they seemed random and none of the bullets were coming our way. At least, not yet.
Jay stumbled my way holding on to Jane for balance and said, “Whoa man, that’s some heavy shit. It’s like a bad acid trip. My eyes are aching like a son of a bitch.” Both of their eyes were red and watering, streaks of tears cutting through the dirt on their faces.
The cannister Chuck had tossed forward exploded, but instead of a supernova and sonic boom, a large cloud of expanding gas flowed forth from it enveloping Jeb’s men. The sounds of racking coughs followed. Chuck’s one-man brand of chaos expanded. It was quite impressive.
He started his next act by pulling out a gas mask and putting it on. When it was snuggly in place, he put the nunchucks back into motion and waded into smoke cloud disappearing like a ghost in the dark of night. Through the smoke, I could only catch glimpses of movement. One moment I saw Chuck dodge out of the cloud, the nunchuck spinning like a helicopter’s blade, then he would disappear and I would hear a hollow thud followed by a grunt. A moment later a body would fly out of the cloud and flop down on the ground like a dead fish.
Fortunately, the wind was coming from behind us and kept the smoke cloud from drifting back on us. I stepped over to Jay and Jane and said, “We have to get the others and get out of here.” Just as I finished this sentence, Robbie and Randell came out of the smoke, coughing and choking, but they had Rosalita in between them, dragging her along. I handed over the handcuff keys to Jay and they circulated among the group until everyone had their hands free.
“Get Dave, Joni, and the kids,” I said to Jay and Jane as I handed Jane a pistol.
Jay was slow to react, but Jane pivoted and headed toward Dave. Jay finally got on board with the mission and headed toward Joni.
Chuck bounced out of the cloud again, bobbed like a ballet dancer along its flowing exterior of the cloud for a moment. He picked his moment and waded back into the smoke cloud. I heard two thuds followed by grunts. A man tumbled out of the cloud holding his forehead then fell face forward onto the grass and didn’t move again.
Randell and Robbie continued pulling Rosalita along and I made my way to them through the drifting smoke and mayhem. When I got to them, I could see Rosalita looked in bad shape.
I passed my my rifle to Randell and said, “You two, leave Rosalita with me and get back to compound and get any vehicle you can. Haul ass back here and pick us up.”
“What if we run into any of Jeb’s people?” Randell asked.
“Shoot them if you have to,” I said.
“I don’t know about shooting the living,” Randell said, his brow furrowed.
“It’s us or them,” I said. “Now, go!”
He must have gotten the message because he and Robbie headed off across the field as fast as they could. I knelt down to Rosalita to check her out. Her face was smeared with dirt and her eyes leaked tears from the effect of the flash bang and catching some of the gas. I gently squeezed her shoulder and she moaned.
“You still with us, Rosalita?” I asked.
“Si, senor,” she said, but then followed it up with a string of Spanish that I didn’t understand. My Spanish is rusty, but I’m sure she called me “daddy” at least once.
Just then Jay, Jane, Dave, and Joni arrived along with the kids. Jessica was crying inconsolably. Martin looked shell shocked, but wasn’t crying. Dave rubbed both his fists into his eyes as if someone had tossed salt into them.
“I think I’m blinded,” he said. “What the hell happened?”
“Chuck happened,” I said.
“What?” Dave exclaimed. “I didn’t see anything.”
“Chuck must have released the zombies as a way to distract Jeb and his goons. Then he infiltrated into their midst in the confusion. He tossed in a flash bang and a tear gas grenade and that’s where we stand. He is in that cloud right now with a gas mask on, kicking ass and taking names.”
As if on cue, a man flew out of the cloud and did a rolling somersault before ending up in an unconscious heap. Chuck leapt out of the cloud just behind and struck a martial arts pose, nunchucks at the ready. He still had on his gas mask and robe. His rifle and some other weapons hung in place on his chest, but I doubted that he had even taken a shot. He was having way too much fun with those nunchucks.
“Holy shit, that’s Chuck?” Jay said.
“That’s our savior,” I said.
Chuck turned and headed back into the cloud. “Listen up, folks, Randell and Robbie have headed back into the compound to look for a vehicle for us to get out of Dodge. You should head in that direction.”
“But what about you and Chuck?” Joni asked.
“I need to stay here with Rosalita. She’s in no shape to move. Chuck, well, I think he can take care of himself. Get on the move. There’s no time to waste.”
Joni wobbled back and forth, leaning towards me and the back away towards her kids, obviously torn about leaving me alone with Rosalita. Martin broke the stalemate when he reached out and tugged at one of her hands.
“Come on, mom,” he said, “we’ve got to go.”
She resisted his pulling, but then gave into it. Still, she locked her eyes on mine, seeming to say that she would have stayed if she could, but she had to keep the kids safe. I knew what she was saying and understood. Still, I felt quite a bit lonely as I watched them disappear into the darkness.
More shots came from inside the smoke cloud. I think I heard a few moans of the undead, too, but I wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was that wind had picked up and the smoke cloud had thinned out. I could see through large wind torn gaps that zombies were still heading our way. There was still a number of Jeb’s people running around in a confused state. I saw at least one of them grapple with a zombie and go down. The zombie tore into this guy just as the gas cloud wafted over them.
I felt something grip my hand and looked down to see Rosalita working to open her eyes.
“Mr. Grant,” she said, her voice weak, “you must leave me here. It is not safe for you. I am old and ready for the end.”
I leaned down and said, “Listen here, Rosalita, if I have half as much life in me when I get to be your age, I’d figure I was one of the luckiest men on the planet. I’m not going anywhere without you.
You’re on the team to stay.”
She squeezed my hand and let out a small smile, but I could tell that she was just about spent. The whole ordeal had taken its toll on all us, but she didn’t have the energy reserves that we did and I could see each day taking her down a notch at a time.
A figure stumbled out of the fog. It was a large male zombie and he wasn’t wearing a robe. In fact, it wasn’t wearing anything, but dark gray skin, some bruises, a couple gunshot wounds with a coating of blood in there added some decorative contrast. Most of the blood was around its mouth and covering its neck and chest. I wished the blood had extended down its torso to cover its groin area because there were some things in life I never wanted to see and full frontal male zombie nudity was one of them.
It spotted me and Rosalita and immediately started our way in a long shambling gait. It didn’t have far to go. I didn’t want to shoot it because that could draw the attention of Jeb’s people and that wasn’t attention I wanted, but I wasn’t sure I’d have much of a choice in about ten seconds. I gripped the gun and moved past Rosalita and aimed.
I was about to pull the trigger when Chuck bounded out of the smoke cloud behind the zombie, nunchucks whirling. He saw my predicament and ran after the zombie. The zombie was locked in on me, so it didn’t even hear Chuck’s approach. Chuck swung hard and true and the nunchuck slapped against the back of the zombie’s skull. The impact sounded like Babe Ruth hitting a coconut with a Louisville Slugger. The zombie dropped to one knee, but didn’t go down. Despite the fact that Chuck was wearing a gas mask, I sensed amazement and disappointment in his body language that the creature was still in motion.
Chuck didn’t let that little setback stop his forward progress and started the nunchucks whirling again. The way he made them move was almost hypnotic and there was a part of me that felt he was putting on a little show just for me. The zombie started to rise, but with this next whack, Chuck put the damn dead thing down for good.
As he stepped toward me, he pulled off the gas mask and asked, “Is she alright?”
“She’s just exhausted and her ankle still isn’t healed,” I responded. “I sent the others back to compound to get some sort of vehicle to get us the hell out of here.”
“That’s a good idea,” he said. “This smoke isn’t going last much longer and there’s still some of those crazies in there with the zombies.” He peered back at the compound and said, “I’m going back into make sure you’re clear.”
I nodded my head his way and just as he started to turn around he jerked forward and sprawled across the grass. The sound of gunshots sounded as he fell and I looked over his prone body and saw Jeb and Clint coming out the smoke cloud. Clint had his rifle up and Jeb was holding a pistol. Both men were coughing from the effects of the smoke, but were able to start in my direction. Chuck wasn’t moving.
I reached for my pistol, but Jeb said, “No, no, Mr. Grant. Clint will shoot you dead if you pull that weapon.”
I wanted to say something like, “It’s either try to shoot you or you shoot me in a minute and feed me to zombies,” but I decided they’d shoot me now or shoot me later. Later was my strongest preference at the moment. The other factor was that if they shot me, then they’d most likely use Rosalita as zombie food.
They continued toward me cautiously. Clint’s aim never left me as he watched me with total concentration. To be safe, I held my hands away from my side until they got to within eight feet of me where they stopped.
“I want you to take your hand and reach for your pistol and grip it with on your index finger and your thumb,” Clint said demonstrating by holding his finger and thumb out in a pinching motion. “You make any quick moves and I’ll shoot you dead right now. And then we’ll feed your lady friend to the zombies.”
That was awfully nice to get that confirmation on my thoughts -- emphasis on the word awful. I did as I was told, and held the pistol out away from my body in an exaggerated fashion.
“Now, toss it away,” Clint said.
I made a show of tossing it, but did it in such away that it went only a few feet away. There was the slightest of chances that if I dove, rolled, and grabbed the gun and got into a firing position that, maybe, I could get off a shot before them. If Vegas took odds, then that likelihood was akin to the possibility that there would be a zombie apocalypse and we all see how that turned out. Keep hope alive, I say. Keep hope alive.
“I bet you think you’ve gotten the best of us,” Jeb said, his voice dripping with contempt. “But you haven’t. Our story is still being told in glory.”
“Glory, as in the glory of God?” I asked. “You know, I think you got on the wrong side of that equation.”
“DON’T GET SMART WITH ME!” Jeb roared me so forcefully that I took step back. His face filled with a dark red rage as he brandished his gun at me. I could see his finger tense on the trigger over and over again, but something held him back. It took a few seconds, but the red cloud of anger passed over him.
“The Dark Lord has selected you through the child to be transfigured by his undead army and that’s what will happen.” He paused and exhaled loudly through his nostrils, still venting some of his rage. “Step away from the woman.”
I took a step backwards.
“Not that way!” he yelled. “Towards us.”
I knew what he meant, but was just being obstinate.
“Do you want me to shoot her?” He screamed at me, the rage coming back.
I hopped forward quickly and cut the distance down to less than five feet away from Jeb and Clint. Clint maintained a total focus on me with his rifle. I could only imagine that since Chuck had emptied the pit, that Clint planned to march me into the heart of the zombies and kneecap me and leave me there to be devoured.
Being devoured was something I wanted to avoid, but what I wanted didn’t seem to be an option right then. What I needed was a lucky break or some sort of distraction. I sent up a silent prayer, a Hail Mary sort of thing. To be honest, I wasn’t the most religious man in my life before the apocalypse and much of my operating procedure after the shit hit the fan didn’t leave much time for me to contemplate heady theological matters, but deep down I knew that the Big Man was still at work in the world and it was at that moment that I got some evidence.
The evidence came when the wind shifted back towards us, rather than away, as it had been blowing for the past few minutes. With the wind, came the gas cloud. It wrapped around Jeb and Clint in an instant like gray flood waters. I was swept up a second later.
The only problem was that it was a strong wind and it broke up the already weakening gas cloud quickly. The caustic effect seemed diminished greatly, but it was still strong enough to bring tears to my eyes and irritate my nose and throat. Still I had my break. I leapt back in the direction of where I had tossed my gun.
It turned out that the gas cloud was a like a double-edged sword for me. While it provided me with a momentary distraction, the cloud also obscured my vision, making it impossible for me to see the gun. So, I just guessed where it would be and went for it.
My eyes burned like someone had poured gasoline in them and set them on fire, but I was on all fours scrabbling around in the cloud reaching blindly for the gun. I could hear Jeb and Clint gasping and coughing.
“Don’t try it,” Clint yelled, but the shout broke into a racking set of coughs.
I felt my hand strike against something metal and hard, but in my state of panic, instead of grabbing it, I knocked it further way.
A strong gust of wind came and the gas cloud all but drifted past us, and on toward the compound leaving me naked and exposed. When I looked up, I saw my gun a few feet away, but it might have been miles as Clint now had me locked back in his aim. I guessed that he wasn’t going to wait for any ceremony to cast me among the zombies and my life was now measured in seconds.
That’s when the second little miracle happened. Out of the dark just behind Clint came my salvation. A dark shambling form came out of bla
ckness on a beeline right for Clint.
Up until that moment, the zombies had been my mortal enemy, but in that moment, that one zombie became something new. They say the enemy of my enemy is my friend. I didn’t like to take it that far, but I was about to gain a strong affinity for that zombie. We weren’t going to be BFFs, but I sure liked him a lot right then.
Clint was totally focused on me, so to keep that going, I bought my hands into the air in a grand gesture of surrender. I hoped he bought it and staid his plan to shoot me.
I watched him closely, and if I were a betting man, I would have betted against me as I watched him lower his aim from my head to my legs. I sensed from his expression that he was about to pull the trigger. Call it hunch. I’ve not see men pull the trigger all that much in my career as a U.S. Marshall, but I caught that expression in Clint’s face.
To further get his attention on me, I said, “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot. I’ll do whatever you want.”
He relaxed, but only slightly and that was all the time I needed. In his total fixation on me, he didn’t hear the zombies now nearly on top of him. Just as it reached its arms out for Clint, it let out a horrible animal snarl.
Clint whipped around with the rifle, but the zombie was too close and the barrel of the rifled was too long. The barrel bounced off the zombies side and the creature enveloped Clint in a bear hug, knocking him off balance as they both fell to the ground. The rifle bounced away as Clint did his best to fend off the zombie’s snapping teeth.
Jeb shrieked in surprised and hopped back a couple feet unable to fire his gun because the zombie was so intertwined with Clint that there was no shooting the zombie without shooting Clint. Clint grunted and tried to buck the zombie, but the zombie held fast. Clint pressed both of his hands to the zombies chin, desperately trying to keep the undead thing at bay, but the thing was bathed in blood from some recent kills. The blood was slick and Clint’s hands slipped and the zombie fell onto his shoulder and bit deeply, rending and tearing its teeth.
Forget The Zombies (Book 3): Forget America Page 9
