by Javan Bonds
The gas had apparently run out when the vehicle tipped. My intoxicated and barely conscious self was certainly not going to find some gas at the barn. Cannonball felt so bad about almost murdering his friends he offered to stay with me and keep me from falling asleep. Candy and Easy both walked entirely too close to one another out of the woods while my idiot friend blubbered about how sorry he was.
That was about the time my brother started turning into the dream of every female within the Tri-County area. I wonder if he and the girl I wasted years on just walked to get a can of gas. Maybe they did something else on the way. It doesn’t need to be said that I’m not going to remember writing this down to ask him about it later. I need to tattoo the inside of my eyelids or something.
☠☠☠
I know you’ve noticed it and I have also realized it. It seems like every one of those points in my life when I almost died have generally worked out so that I ended up exactly where I am. I spent my entire depressing existence being a loser living on the precipice of poverty. If I had been a happy person to this point I wouldn’t have been here to create an island safe haven that is free of zombies and let other people take most of the credit. Shit, that actually doesn’t sound worth it. Maybe I should go over my contract with The Screenwriter.
☠☠☠
I actually did hit and wound a peevie. I might have missed the seven others that I remember seeing. But the point is, one of them is going to have a pretty bad limp for a while. Booyah! Score one for Mo!
I don’t remember my last bumbling words to the guards. I have no recollection of my journey from the causeway to the boat. I am completely unsure of how I got back onboard. My next memory is waking up, sprawled out on the deck, with Mary picking the bugs out of my hair.
18
Memoirs of Benji 2
Naval Air Station, Corpus Christi
WE DECIDED WE would stop first at the Naval Air Station in Corpus Christi. This was the closest military airbase to my best friend Devin’s hometown. He was positive his loved ones would be surviving in the remnants of one of the largest cities in Texas. I could have told you the score before we buzzed over the ghost town. He adamantly refused to accept that his family could’ve been overtaken by the swarm of the infected.
We buzzed over the city a few more times, producing absolutely no signs of life. It was eerie to see no birds flying away from our giant noisemaking machine. There were no dogs or cats running away in terror from the giant bird in the sky. We saw only tar-black diarrhea sprayed haphazardly and in shorter and shorter intervals. The zombies had obviously beaten us here. We knew we weren’t going to see them in the daylight and we certainly didn’t expect to see commuter traffic or the casual retail shopper, but we were hoping to see maybe a shopping mall with “ALIVE INSIDE” signs along the roof. Nothing. Had one of the largest cities in Texas really been overtaken so quickly that no one had even been the slightest bit prepared? Being Texas, I was hoping there were preppers locked away in their underground bunkers, stocked up and feeling no need to expose themselves to an airplane owned by the government. I was crossing my fingers and trying not to believe everyone in the city was now blue. Or eaten.
Devin’s face fell when we flew over his old stomping grounds. The closed doors of his family home gave no encouragement. Still denying his entire family had been destroyed, he wanted to land and procure a vehicle to travel to his childhood home and find what we all knew he would find. There would be nothing in the house but shit, dead, shit-covered, ravenous family members, and probably some shit-covered, blue, undead family members.
We landed on a tarmac at NASCC that was miraculously clean. It had not been littered with other planes, vehicles, or even trash. The fencing possibly kept the peevies out of the base. There had been no communication or any signs of survivors from our flyover, but perhaps someone had survived inside. We could only hope they were friendly.
As the plane taxied to a stop, Devin unbuckled his seatbelt and rose to leave the cockpit.
“Where the fuck are you going?”
He turned to look at me as if I should know and I probably did. “I’m going to open the cargo doors.”
“Uh, no you’re not.” We had just landed in what could be a hostile base. I thought it would be a good idea to make sure that there were no Road Warrior wannabes occupying the area. “We’re not going to be exposed until I know it’s safe.”
At his pleading look, I softened. “Look, man, I know you want to start looking for your family, but we need to be sure there won’t be an ambush when we open the fucking door.”
He seemed to understand, and though being cautious took time that he did not think he could afford, he relented. “Fine! We can’t take all day though.”
I bit my lip and could not bring myself to tell him that his loved ones would be just as dead no matter how long it took us to get there.
☠☠☠
Not a peep came from the radio and nothing reacted to the boom of the speakers. Our only other options were sitting in the plane and waiting or taking a stroll outside. Of course, I was all for being cautious and just waiting, but I knew that shit wouldn’t fly with my copilot. The fate of his family was unknown, at least to him, and every second not spent looking for them was a second wasted.
After a heated argument, I finally agreed to let the whole crew vote on it. If I didn’t do something, he was just going to open the doors even if I had a fucking gun pointed at him. We walked back to the crew compartment and explained the situation to the others. We took a secret ballot and lucky fucking me only nine of the other people on this plane understood that we could all die excruciating deaths. Our flesh could be rent from our bones by monsters or we could be outgunned and each of us violently gang raped to death. We could all be forced to walk into a giant cooking pot and roasted alive before being devoured by malevolent cannibals. The ways to meet a painful end were limitless!
The door fell open and I was expecting to immediately fall under a rain of bullets. No lead began flooding the opening. It appeared completely quiet. Just like the entire city, nothing appeared to be alive. Devin was the first to touch boots on the tarmac and he received no incoming fire. A strange quiet settled over the once busy station and city. Corpus Christi was just like every major city we had flown over since leaving Ventura County.
After several minutes of his not being ripped into pieces by gunfire, and not being assaulted by living or un-living, the crew began to slowly walk out one by one. I was the last to join the contingent of sailors and Marines, all weapons at the ready. The group remained vigilant as Devin led it in the direction of one of the open hangars. The gaping cavern of black was so welcoming to humans.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I had to ask my friend.
“Moving to hangar. Functional motorized transportation likely to be inside,” Devin stated matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, but …” I whined. “It’s dark in there! And there’s plenty of motorized transportation out here.”
He spoke logically, “Yes. But the vehicles stowed in the hangar are more likely to be operational and fully fueled.” I expected him to add, “And what would be the fun if we stayed safe?”
Like idiot lemmings, the crew blindly followed the directions of the man giving hand gestures. We came to a large opening and hugged by the door and the corners of the building. We had every angle covered, ready for anything. Devin Landers and four others walked into the abyss while crouched.
They turned the flashlights attached to their rifles on and moved in. I’m surprised not one of the five tossed in any glow sticks. They moved in and I started slowly from behind.
I crossed into the building proper just as one of the men in front of me let out a scream and disappeared into the black. His close comrade let off a few bursts in that direction, but clearly saw and was aiming for nothing.
“Lembowski? Lembowski!” His buddy called into the dark but received no response.
I watched the group
come closer together as they scanned for nothing in every direction. Suddenly, Lembowski started making noise like he had just woken up in the clutches of a monster and began scuffling. His frantic straining could be heard from what sounded like above. Could the peevies fucking fly? Flashlights were pointing up, futilely scanning into the darkness. We found out later that the animal must have knocked him out before carrying him up a metal staircase. He woke up and began fighting the creature on a flimsy metal walkway.
I couldn’t understand why the zombie would even recognize he existed if it had already bitten him. Was it simply taking him somewhere unmolested? Perhaps it was just a worker ant taking food to its queen. These things were evolving into something scarier than simple mindless animals. Maybe soon, we would be able to bargain for our lives.
Lembowski made a noise of satisfaction, obviously breaking free from the blue cannibal. Seconds after this noise came a sound of surprise followed by screaming. One of the light beams took in Lembowski as he flipped head over heels through the air and impacted fully on concrete. The sound of his body smacking on the ground was a mixture of a wet plop and dozens of bones snapping. He went instantly quiet as the back of his skull ruptured when it collided with the concrete floor.
When he broke free from the peevie, he must have backed into the single railing on the walkway and flipped over it. It had to be terrifying to fall through pitch black. The serviceman was screaming seconds before. Now the only noise from his position was the slow trickle of blood into a pool around his broken body.
The four remaining men had to be wishing for thermal or night vision goggles. They drew into a tight circle and kept their backs to one another. Something skittered to the group’s ten o’clock and they focused in that direction. The Marine at three o’clock disappeared into the unforgiving pitch.
Just like Lembowski, there was no scream, no shout of alarm, he was just gone. Were the zombies fishing from the walkway above or lassoing the brave souls at the precipice of darkness? Maybe they just had a strong runner, grabbing the humans and carrying them up the stairs. I was amazed the demons could immediately silence their victims.
This one played out different than with Lembowski. The Marine could be heard rousing and fighting with the animal. He planted himself, knowing he didn’t have much room around him. He pushed the zombie and we heard shrieking as the nudist toppled over the railing. The blue figure fell similarly to Lembowski, doing back flips and crying out.
One major difference between this thing’s final act and Lembowski’s was that the human did not spray melted licorice from his ass for the entirety of his downward trip. The unnatural beast landed on its head, causing the skull to split in two. The head went flat against the floor, pancaking on impact. Gray matter shot out of the ears and the body slowly tipped onto its chest. During the ninety-degree collapse, the infected’s rectum coughed and sputtered its final notes before the bleeding creature lay still.
Salazar yelled down at us from his perch. “Was that entertaining?”
One of the men on the ground called up and answered, “Hell yeah! It fell on its head!”
The Marine began to laugh, a booming chuckle, before the wind was knocked out of him. The wailing shouts of Corporal Salazar and the screaming of a ghoul became one. The monster must have charged the large human on the walkway above, not realizing there was nothing but open air behind its target. They collapsed in a spinning embrace, no time to make any maneuvers. As a final “fuck you” to the undead that had ended him, the corporal pushed away so that neither body would cushion the other.
They both hit the ground on their sides, holding each other with outstretched arms. The death pose of the couple could have appeared as some macabre dance. Basically every bone on the left side of the bodies had shattered, almost causing them to look as if they had become one with the floor. Fluid ran from the bodies, crimson blood being overtaken by stinking black.
Devin looked at his diminished accompaniment and sighed. With two of his now deceased comrades and another two naked lunatics littering the floor, he decided the best option was a strategic withdrawal. “Fuck it!” He threw his hands up. “Let’s get back out into the sunlight.”
I wanted to shake my head and lecture him. “See? I told you we should have taken our time.” But I decided to keep silent and just walk back out into safety. I looked to each side. Our gunners were still peeking around the corners of the building and watching. I don’t know what they were waiting for. Any human would have noticed us making a commotion. I was just glad the peevies were stuck in the dark, since it was a typical, blisteringly sunny Texas day.
Devin and the rest of the crew got into a huddle to discuss plans. I refused to be part of their idiotic scheming and chose to cover the perimeter. How many more of these people would get killed so Devin could get closure?
☠☠☠
“Why? There’s not gonna be a fucking truck up there.” I stood among the group that Devin had convinced to again enter the open hangar. Some of them had the bright idea to throw some damn flares in. This time we were not completely surrounded by darkness. Devin led the group almost halfway through. He wanted to go up one of the metal stairways leading into God knows what.
“Yeah, probably not. But there’s got to be something up there–”
I had to interrupt my friend. “So the fuck what? It’s not going to get us where we need to go any quicker.”
He shot back with a mischievous grin, “Sure, I’ll give you that. But I have this feeling that I’m supposed to go up there.” I could only shake my head. He definitely had contact with an all-knowing Voice. I was the last to begrudgingly trudge up the stairs, glow sticks broken at least every dozen yards. The team came to the end of the walkway and a locked door. The humans were able to see, so the peevies remained hidden for the entire walk.
One of the Marines jangled the locked handle and stepped back. I know, you’re asking: Why the hell was the door locked? Did the halfwit monsters latch it behind them? I instinctively knew there had to be something of interest behind this door. It was something that obviously interested the peevies as well. Why else would they be defending it? It was just more scary proof they were rapidly becoming something more than stupid animals, that they could unlock and relock doors. Why wouldn’t I simply assume the door had been locked before the outbreak and the mindless creatures had only gathered here by chance, you ask? Because if so, I certainly wouldn’t be writing about it now.
Carmack and Fredericks moved to place explosives on the hinges of the door. After they pressed a small amount of putty against each designated section, they stepped away. Three pops like firecrackers sounded before the clank of broken metal bounced onto the walkway. Fredericks reached for the knob and pulled. The door fell open and the servicemen gathered around, staring into the inky black.
Carmack had obviously learned from the mistakes of the last incursion into this building. He tossed in a cracked glow stick. Hissing could be heard and a flash of movement came from the far edge of the circle of light. The men could not get clear aim and walked slowly into the room with their fingers on triggers. Five men crept into the open doorway as Carmack and Fredericks braced for an attack. They were met with silence after entering the room and threw a few more lights until they could see all four walls of the room.
This had clearly been an office but recently coated in sprays of black excrement, under which papers and unidentifiable objects were strewn about. The desks must have been used as nests. The chairs were gone, and what looked like pounds of shit had been raked out from under them, the floor under each desk made into pallets with leaves or pieces of clothing.
Devin walked by one desk and smiled when he noticed documentation on a Blackhawk helicopter. He nearly fist-pumped. I guess he was right that there was a reason for us to come up here.
☠☠☠
We entered another empty hallway on the opposite side of this office. The hall was lined with closed doors on either side and one clos
ed door at the end. The troops covered each door as they passed and nothing came out. Devin Landers’s confidence grew with each step as he closed on the final door. Would you be surprised if there were peevies in this room?
He turned the handle to unsurprisingly find that it was locked. Carmack approached and blew the hinges off the door. Devin moved to the side and pulled the handle so the door fell open. Carmack threw in another flare for us to witness one of the most disturbing scenes I can recall witnessing.
The room housed at least five of the naked beasts. Three humans lay among a month’s worth of feces encompassing all four walls, the floor, and the ceiling. We only knew these people lived because they moved or made soft moans. They looked in poorer shape than any Nazi concentration camp victim I had ever seen. Most of them were missing limbs, obviously taken inch by inch. One man sat crumpled in the corner with no legs and one arm. Most of his fingers had been amputated at least to the first knuckle, ragged and bloodied stumps where each of his appendages once were. The picked clean bones of what could be fifty humans and possibly animals lay strewn across the room, skulls easy to notice through layers of shit.
