by Wallen, Jack
Toque didn’t bother waiting for a reply before he turned and bumped his way through the swinging doors.
The second he was gone, the walls of The Last Casket came alive with a thunderous sound.
“What the hell?” Billy shouted as he wound his way to the nearest window. “Oh, shit.” He turned toward the kitchen. “Toque!”
Before another breath was taken, Toque appeared…meat cleaver in hand. He was greeted by a clamorous round of shakedown by the undead chorus beyond. With silent steps, he rushed to the door and dropped the three steel crossbars to prevent the dead dogs of war from slipping inside.
“What are we going to do?” Max whispered.
Toque turned to the drummer and held a finger to his lips.
From the other side of the door, a hell-born scream cut through wood and metal. Toque tensed further and shot away from his post. He reached the entrance to the kitchen, turned, and motioned for everyone to follow. One by one, Kitty In A Casket fell in line behind Toque. He led them through the kitchen and into a walk-in freezer. Once the freezer door was shut, he pulled on a back panel to reveal the hidden stairs.
“Why are we going up to the roof?” Billy asked.
“To assess the situation,” whispered Toque.
Before leaving the freezer, Toque snatched a pair of rifles that were strategically placed behind a tower of crates. He handed one weapon to Billy, who willingly accepted and tossed a devil horn salute into the air.
The human centipede made its way up the stairs and through the final exit to the roof. The group spread out dangerously near the edge and took in the hate parade below. The monstrous shadows danced over the dusty ground, illuminated by the bank of solar-powered flood lights.
“Scheiße,” Kitty whispered. “How in the hell are we supposed to survive that?”
Surrounding the bar was a ring of Moaners. Tearing through the fetid flesh of the Moaners was a small cadre of Screamers, desperate to reach the living buffet within the Casket.
Toque stared on in silence.
“Care to join us in the now, Mr. Canada?” Tom hissed.
Toque held up his hand for silence.
Off in the distance, a small dust storm traced itself along the main road leading directly toward the bar.
He pointed.
The band’s collective gaze followed his finger into the distance.
“Please don’t tell me that’s a pack of Boners,” Max said just above a whisper.
Tom released a guffaw loud enough to clue in the horde below of their presence.
Through the dust and darkness, a pair of dim headlights glimmered. Toque lowered his arm. “It’s a vehicle, heading this way…fast. Hopefully whoever it is will draw the attention of those bastards away.”
“What are you saying, Toque?” Kitty whispered. “We’re just supposed to wait up here until the death circus leaves town?”
Todd Flash raised his hand. “That’d be my preference.”
“I’ll second that,” added Tom as he glanced back at the nightmare below to see a Screamer pluck a Moaner from the ground, tear it in half, and toss it aside.
“You see, Kitty?” asked Toque softly. “Monsters.”
“Yeah, Toque, I get it. They aren’t human. If it means we survive this, I’d eat the lot of ‘em.”
Toque nodded with a fatherly-proud smile. “Atta girl.”
The twin lights drew nearer as the roar of whatever engine driving them onward caught the attention of the scourge on the periphery.
Toque’s voice took on a distant tone. “Wait for it. Wait for it.”
The headlights ceased moving; the engine revved. Before the car could turn tail and race off, the Moaners and Screamers spun on rotting heels and either shambled or sprinted toward the machine-wound noisemaker. Before the horde could overtake the car, the driver punched the gas, spun into a donut, and sped away…engine screaming for vengeance. The zombies continued giving chase.
“I’ll be damned.” Kitty’s voice remained near a whisper. “How did you know that would play out like that, Toque?”
“Honestly…” Toque glanced between the band members. “I didn’t. That was Mother Nature running its course. Or maybe it was karma or happenstance. I don’t know…I don’t care.”
The slower zombies stumbled on, instinct insisting they continue their charge.
Toque continued. “Either way, it worked in our favor.”
Billy pointed. “There’s still a few stragglers, Toque.”
“Nothing we can’t handle at this point. Besides, they’re just Moaners. You could probably slip outside and take them down yourself, Mr. Bat.”
At Toque’s prompt, Billy smiled and puffed up slightly. “Hell yeah, I could.”
Toque placed a calming hand on Billy’s shoulder. “Let’s save the cavalier bravery for another time. Although, if you’d like to dance into the darkness and ninja the stragglers, be my guest.”
Billy shot a glance to Todd, who immediately nodded.
“Hey, I saw that,” Max huffed. “I think it’s time I got in on the action.”
Todd grinned. “You up to smashing a few zombie heads?”
Max looked over the edge of the roof and then back to Todd. “I’m a drummer, dude. I smash heads for a living.”
“Yeah, but these heads smash back,” Billy added.
Angst snatched his drumsticks from a cargo pocket. “Not as hard as I do.”
Billy winked. “We’ll see, Max. We’ll see.”
Without another word, Billy dashed into the stairwell…closely followed by Todd and Max.
“Anyone else care to join them?” asked Toque.
Kitty raised both hands and said, “I’m good.”
“Me too,” Tom added.
“Wise choice.” Toque’s voice had returned to its regular calm.
m/
Billy stood by the back door of the Casket, Louisville Slugger in hand. Next to him, Todd Flash carried a butcher knife, and Max wielded a three-foot length of rebar.
“On the count of three,” Billy whispered, “I’m going to open the door and run out. You guys follow suit, but make damn sure the door is closed behind us. We can’t take a chance and leave the gates to the castle standing wide open.”
“Are you sure about this plan, Bat?” Max asked.
“No. You got a better one, Angst?” replied Billy.
Max shook his head and tapped the steel bar against the open palm of his left hand. “Let’s rock.”
Billy counted down. “One. Two…” He paused to take a deep breath. As soon as his lungs were emptied and refilled, he jerked the door open and sprinted out, bat at the ready.
Todd and Max followed suit. Max turned to shut the door when Billy shouted a warning. Max heard the moan just in time to spin on a dime and swing the rebar with intent to kill. The metal shaft struck home with murderous speed, sending a sonic wave of crunch careening into his eardrums.
“Son of a bitch, that was nasty!” Max shouted.
Billy laughed. “I thought you were ready for this, Angst.”
The Moaner with the dented skull lurched forward, clutching wildly for purchase on Max. Before the cold, dead fingers could grab so much as an inch of black fabric, Max rotated the bar above his head so its dull, metallic end pointed directly at the zombie. With a single, powerful thrust, Max sent the rebar into the Moaner’s right eye and deep into the wells of its brain. “Who said I wasn’t?”
“I rescind my comment,” Billy added.
Todd swung his butcher knife in front of him, hoping the zombie he was facing would accidentally walk into the deadly blade. “Come on, you son of a bitch…kill yourself on my steel. Hari-kari, motherfucker!”
“Are you kidding me?” asked Billy. “Run the bastard through and move on.”
Todd offered no argument and steadied his blade. The nearby Moaner stumbled forward, danced itself off-balance, and fell into Todd’s knife. The commercial-grade cutlery sliced through the beast’s neck with a po
p and a hiss. As the point of the blade reached the other side of the neck, it hit bone and stopped. Todd stomped his booted foot heavily on the ground and forced his weight forward hard enough to break through the vertebrae and sever the spinal column. The Moaner instantly went slack and slipped off of Tom’s knife into a skin sack-heap on the ground.
“That was too fucking easy,” Billy said.
“You’re bitching about a win, Billy?” Max questioned.
“Nah. I was just hoping to get some serious cardio on.”
“This isn’t a damn game, Bat. This is life, and we’re lucky to be surviving day to day.” Max’s voice rose a notch above anxious.
Billy lowered his bat level with Max’s accusatory stare. “Dude, you seriously need to relax. I get the name and all, but we’ve gotta make the best of this situation, or the situation will make the best of us.”
Max drew in uncomfortably close to Billy. “The last band I played in, the frontman was just as cocky as you. He thought himself invincible. I had to watch him being eaten alive by a gang of Moaners. I’d hate to see the same fate befall such a talented guitarist as yourself. Besides, I’ve seen how you and Kitty make with the goo goo. Losing you might send her into an irrevocable downward spiral.”
Billy narrowed his eyes and stared into the dark pools of Max’s pupils. When he finally spoke, his voice was deeper and calmer than usual. “Thanks. I needed that reminder of what’s really at stake here.”
Max tilted his head. “I don’t understand. Are you going full snark and ready to crack me in the jaw?”
Billy shot his hand toward Max. “Nah, man. I’m being totally honest. Thank you.”
Max reluctantly accepted Billy’s hand and was surprised when he wasn’t blindsided by a bone-shaking sucker-punch.
Todd interrupted the broment. “You guys wanna get a room inside the Casket?”
Without giving Todd so much as a glance, Billy flipped him off and then disappeared into the bar. He wound his way back to the kitchen to see Toque standing at the industrial stove. Kitty and Tom leaned against a nearby table, watching the man work. From behind, Billy heard the exit door close.
“I take it a celebratory burger is needed?” asked Toque.
“Make that two,” replied Billy.
“Three,” added Todd.
“Five,” Max chimed in. Everyone glanced his way. “What? I have a high metabolism. Besides, I’m a drummer…I expend enormous amounts of energy while you guys stand in front of me and take all the glory.”
Everyone laughed…Tom laughing loudest.
“You ever play a fucking stand-up bass? The levels of energy I use up during a show eats your lame excuse for cardio any day.”
Max shook his head. “You have no idea about what you speak, bassist.”
“Girls!” Kitty shouted. “You’re both pretty.”
Tom turned to Kitty and bit his lower lip. “You’re just saying that, aren’t you, Kitten?”
“Am I?” Kitty asked.
“You’re cruel, Miss Kitty,” said Tom.
Kitty blew Tom a kiss just as Toque presented a plate before her. On the plate was a delicious-looking burger, garnished with tomato, lettuce, and onions.
“Where in the bloody hell did you find the fixin’s, Toque?” Kitty asked, her voice drifting into a happy place.
“Let’s just say I have a secret stash that will never be revealed to mere mortals.”
Kitty stared down at the plate and drew in a deep breath. She slowly scooped up the burger and drew it near her mouth.
“Go on, Kitty,” Billy said, patience wearing thin. “You’ve already eaten a few of those things.”
Kitty glared at Billy. “Yeah, but this will be the first time I’ve knowingly eaten a human.” Kitty glanced up at Toque. “There’s no going back, is there?”
Toque shook his head.
Kitty opened wide, shoved a giant portion of burger into her mouth, and bit down. When the juices poured over her taste buds, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she chewed as if she were experiencing every joyous moment of her life at once. “Damn, that’s good human,” Kitty whispered. When she opened her eyes, she winked at Billy and swallowed.
six | three stooges
Night held powerful sway over everyone within the Casket. After the meal, everyone retired to the bar to cuddle up with whatever helped them through the night. In the case of Kitty, it was Billy. Max had his anthology of various existential essays. Todd and Tom sat hunched over a laptop…its glowing white screen casting eerie shadows across the room. The two men were busy working on editing their most recent video footage.
“This is going to be fucking rad,” Todd whispered.
“The crowd’ll love seeing the video playing back during the live song.” Tom shot up a devil horn salute and then added a few special effects to a series of frames.
While the two band members focused all their efforts on creating the multimedia extravaganza for the next Kitty In A Casket show, a much darker art was being practiced outside the sanctity of The Last Casket.
“This is a joke, right, Toque?” the first of two strangers whispered after spitting a brown rainbow of tobacco juice into the shadows.
“No, Jake, it isn’t. It’s the logical step. Vic is charging too damn much for the stuff.”
The second stranger shook his head. “There’s a reason for those prices. It’s spelled d a n g e r. You get anywhere near a Moaner or Screamer, and you willingly risk your life. I don’t know if I’m ready to go bareback with fate just yet.”
Toque crossed his arms over his chest. “I have never known you to shrink away from any fight, Casey.”
“When the damned odds were stacked so far against me as to guarantee a loss, sure. But that’s not the case here, now is it?”
“I’m not asking you to rush into a goddamn undead flash mob, guys. All you have to do is drive around, locate a lone zombie, give it the long kiss goodbye, and bring the corpse to me.”
“And then what?” Jake asked. “I don’t remember seeing an industrial-grade microwave on the premises. How are you going to nuke the meat?”
Toque’s eyes narrowed a bit. “You deliver the goods, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Casey spat another arc of muddy saliva. “I know that tone of voice, Toque. What gives?”
Toque offered a throaty croak before speaking in a barely audible whisper. “I happen to know of a commercial-grade microwave that is ideal for our task. I’ve already rigged up a special solar panel array that’ll power the sum’ bitch with juice to spare. All I have to do is procure the oven…which I plan to do tonight.”
Casey and Jake stood in silence for a long moment. Jake pulled a pouch of tobacco from his back pocket and shoved a massive plug between his gums and cheek.
“You can’t do that alone, Toque. It’s too dangerous,” Jake said.
“Do what?” asked Toque.
“Don’t go dumb on us now. We’ve gone to battle together too many times to let you go tilting at deadly windmills alone.”
Casey stared at Jake, one eyebrow arching skyward. “What the fuck did you just say, Mr. Shakespeare?”
Toque glanced at Jake and nodded. “Fine. I’ll take you boys with me. You can begin the hunt for meat tomorrow.”
m/
The old truck slowed to a silent stop a block away from McVic’s. The tick and pop of the cooling engine punctuated the constant buzz and chirp of the surrounding nocturnal population.
“Fuck me,” Jake hissed. “That dude is crazy. If he catches us trying to hork his microwave, there’s no tellin’ what kind of mad bastard shit’ll befall us.”
Casey glared at Jake. “Do I know you?”
“What?” Jake asked.
“Where did you come up with this vocabulary? You gettin’ ready for a spelling bee?”
Jake slammed his beefy fist into Casey’s shoulder.
“Dammit, what was that for, Jake?”
“For bein’ a douche.
You understand that word, yeah?”
Casey nodded as he grasped his throbbing shoulder.
“Enough,” Toque hissed. “If we’re going to get this job done, we can’t fuck around. We have to get in, get the hardware, and get out…all in under ten minutes.”
“Why ten minutes? You gotta hot date?” Jake asked.
“I’ve been casing Vic’s place for a while now, to ascertain his habits. From what I gather, his sleeping quarters are actually in a building behind the restaurant. Once we break in, if we can get out in under ten minutes, there’s no way Vic’ll be able to wake up, arm himself, and make it to the shop before we have the oven loaded in the truck and hauling ass into the cover of night.”
“Any alarms to speak of?” Casey asked.
Silence.
“Toque?” Jake prodded. “Don’t do this to us, Toque. Are there any alarms?”
“Honestly, I haven’t had the opportunity to put that question to test. I’m guessing not. But…”
The all-too-familiar sound of the undead broke the gentle rhythm of nature. Toque immediately fell into silence…his hand snaked behind him and retrieved a machete.
“Jake, Casey…I hope you came armed.”
From under the truck’s bench seat, Jake pulled out a short-handled ax. Casey reached for his lower back, his hand coming up for air gripping a small but deadly-looking pistol. Toque raised his hand and dropped it down on the weapon.
“Sorry, Casey. We can’t fire guns at the moment. The second you shoot a single zombie, we’ll be surrounded by the undead. Besides, we have to act in stealth mode or risk unleashing the big bad on us.”
“Vic,” all three men whispered.
Toque reached behind the bench seat, brought forth a second machete, and handed it over to Casey. “Think you can handle this?”
“Are you kidding?” Casey bragged wildly. “It’s a freakin’ knife. I’ve used one almost every day of my life.”
“If you say so,” Toque agreed, and relinquished the blade over to Casey.
“Christ, Toque, that’s a heavy-ass knife.” Casey responded to the weight in his hand.
