by Evans, Mike
Jude said, “Yeah, thanks for the parenting tip. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to deal with taking a child with you every single day to the job site.” Jude turned around, staring at Chuck until he realized exactly what Jude was getting at.
Chuck pushed out of the van, shaking his head. “I tell ya, you are all going to feel just absolutely horrible, the minute—the minute, I say—that you lose me. I'm a hot commodity. I know how to kill these things. I bet ya most people are still trying to shoot them, wasting all those damn bullets. I think everyone needs to go to the Stihl Factory and just get loaded up with an extra can of gas and a freshly sharpened saw off of the assembly line. We could kick ass across America if everyone was armed.”
Leslie said, “If one of those saws was available for me, I’d happily trade it for my axe, although I won’t complain that the axes don’t run out of gas. I’m no weak-ass, but I can only imagine how many times I'm going to be able to swing this before I can’t lift my arms any longer.”
The four of them dug out the axes, chainsaws, machetes, and gas cans before closing up the van tight. Chuck said, “Leave it to us to be in the middle of nowhere without gas. I think we might have to put Joann back on driving duty, Jude.”
Jude, without thinking, said, “Really? Because if I remember correctly, she was the one who rolled and flipped and did a whole bunch of other damage to their original van.”
“Right," Joann said, "because as I remember, these three insane men were walking up the wrong side of the highway looking like a fucking death squad.”
Jude and Chuck both thought of how they'd probably looked after having to take out Pete. They stared at each other and silently agreed that yes, they most definitely had looked prettier...much, much prettier.
"All the time we're spending talking here could be better used by putting our feet on the ground one after another," Jude said. "More importantly, we could be getting away from those things before they decide we look tasty.”
Chuck said, “Yeah, getting their attention probably isn’t a problem. I’d say they more than saw the big ass van coming to a stop. I can’t imagine those squeaky piece of shit brakes did anything to make us less noticeable.”
Leslie and Joann started to walk, leaving the two boys behind. Chuck and Jude watched the women, looking like twins with their axes and ponytails swinging from side to side. Chuck leaned over, because he was Chuck and could not by any means help himself. “Dude, if it wasn’t for this entire being eaten thing, wouldn’t that kind of be hot; them all dirty and walking with axes into the sun?”
“Chuck, you do realize that what you are referring to as dirt is actually dried blood? They're more than likely caked with hair, brains, bits of bone, and then just natural sweat pouring from their bodies. This is most definitely not hot, Chuck.”
Chuck said, “Yeah, but if they were clean, and they weren’t covered in blood, and we didn’t have the whole zombie thing going on, then we’d probably think that was really hot, right?”
“Yeah, Chuck, whatever you say, buddy.”
“So you think I got a chance with Leslie?”
“Well, on the bright side of all the death going on, there is at least one thing you have going for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, the way I figure, you've got less and less competition as time progresses. I mean, at some point, you aren’t going to have nearly any competition, and that mixed with you meeting the right gal who's running short on morals is going to be your golden ticket, Chuck.”
“You know what? I’m not stupid, and I know you're teasing me, but guess what? I don’t care. I’m more than happy to take a rebound-on-the-zombie-apocalypse chick. Because, in the end, it means I'm not alone and I’m going to score. So your long short answer was simply yes, you think I've got a serious chance at scoring.”
“You’ll be laying pipe this week, Chuck; I couldn’t see it any other way.”
Leslie yelled, “Are you guys coming or not?"
Chuck did his best to jog while carrying all of his gear. He got up close on her heels. “You know, like I keep saying to you, I’m gonna grow on you, baby.”
“Chuck, I haven’t had enough to eat today for all this excitement. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to puke up what little I still have in me.”
Chuck started to say something, but the growling from behind them was growing louder. Turning around, the group saw that those dead managing to keep their balance coming down the steep hill were quickly making up the distance. Chuck said, “We might want to get our sweet little asses going, or we're going to be walking alongside them.”
Jude didn't say anything, just picked up his pace, doing double time and ignoring the burning in his shoulders from the extra weight he was hauling. He laughed a little as he hiked up the hill. Joann said, “I’m sorry, but what do you find funny about this?”
“Not a goddamn thing, honestly, but when I left the army, I left marching, hiking, and overall shitty grunt work. Well, now that I no longer have a vehicle, I would say I'm more or less back to my old way of life. If we lose cars or electricity, I think we're going to have to worry a little more about being put into the Dark Ages again. I can’t see losing the technical advantages brought on by machinery and vehicles as a good thing.”
Chuck said, “What do you mean—losing everything? What the hell is going to happen that we wouldn’t have technology?”
“I don’t know, maybe the lights go off if the nuclear power plants go down, and then we end up with a few states that glow at night," Jude replied. "Now, that isn’t something I think will happen right away, but we sure as hell better hope it doesn't come to that.”
“What do you think we should do once we get the word out and then get home, Jude?” Chuck asked.
“Find us a pilot…any pilot we can find who's sober enough to get us up in the air and to an island somewhere far, far away from here. I'm not particular as to where, as long as it's safe and doesn’t have any of these issues. I only hope we can beat the rainfall and lockdown in time to find a place to hide and survive.”
“You know there are a lot of pilots who are sober out there, right, Jude?”
“Oh, hell, I know that.”
“Okay…soooo what the hell are you talking about?”
“Well, Chuck, I figure only a damn drunk-ass pilot wouldn't have wheels up already, if it meant they could get away from these fucking things.”
Chuck nodded and was rewarded with a shot of sweat to the eye. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus, it burns...it burns, Jude. I got something in my eye.”
“Well, set something down and wipe it out, or man up and deal with it and keep moving. Remember what the drill sergeants used to say?”
“That I’m worthless and that they wish I would have joined the navy?”
“Yes, but more importantly that you move through the pain and it either goes away or you die.”
Leslie yelled from the top of hill. “Hey, if you guys are done holding hands on that lovely walk, you might want to take a look. I think good things are on the horizon for us!”
The two men both stopped their bantering, staring ahead at the water tower bearing the word Raytown painted in large black lettering around it. Chuck said, “Well, hell, we were bound to have some good news sooner or later. I mean, we can’t just go from shit to more shit, right?”
When he noticed Leslie and Joann walking backwards, he said, "What the hell are you two doing?”
Joann said, “There’s a small army of rednecks on the opposite side of the hill. From the look of them, I'd say there's a damn good chance they live here.”
Leslie yelled, “Do you both speak the same language they do, by chance? Do you think you could maybe get us a visa or something so we can stay here for just a little while until we can find a car or truck to steal?”
Jude said, “They don’t speak a different language, for godsakes.”
The four met on the hillside and stopped short whe
n the strangers stood, rifles raised and pointing directly at them. There had to be at last fifteen.
Chuck yelled, “Hey…hey, guys, there’s a horde of zombies coming this way. There ain’t nothing those guns are gonna do but piss them off. We need to get you something heavy or sharp...or sharp and heavy—that might work, too.”
The largest man walked forward, holding a gun that looked like something you’d use in the army, pointing it directly at Chuck. “You need to turn the fuck around and get on outta here. You do it now, you hear me, boy?”
Chuck said, “Yeah, well, maybe you didn’t understand the words coming out of my mouth, but there is a big-ass horde of the dead headed right for us, and they're intending to eat us. Once they eat us, there’s a good chance they’ll still be hungry, and you're going to be the next thing in line for them to chew on. Now, if you let us through, we can help y'all with them. If you want to keep up being an asshole, maybe we’ll just lead them your way and then head on out of town in a borrowed truck.”
“You realize you’re doing very little to help, right?" Jude said. "You are pissing the holy bejesus out of those gentlemen down there. They don’t come off like the negotiating type. Good chance they haven’t had to deal with many of the dead just yet, so they don’t know what a good offer is when it's presented to them.”
“So what the hell do you want to do?” Chuck asked.
“I guess we need to have our conversation just a bit longer with him. Why don’t you three let me do the talking for a bit? Who knows, maybe they'll like my charming personality.”
The other three took a step back. Leslie said, “That's totally fine with me, but just remember we've got very, very limited time. We either need to get through these guys, or we need to try and go another direction. Our odds only improve if those assholes down there decide to let us come into their holy and wonderful town.”
“Gotcha.” Jude put down the equipment that wasn’t strapped to his back. “Hey now, fellas, can I come down there without all of you deciding to try and kill me?”
The man shrugged. “You come on down, but just remember that if you take anything off of your back then I’m going to be putting one of these rounds right through your fucking head. You got any questions about that?”
“No, sir, that's pretty hard not to understand.” Jude walked down quickly, motioning for the others to follow at a distance. When he got within twenty feet, he stopped and said, “Is this okay here? Not too close to need to get shot, right?”
“We can talk right there. You might want to do it quick. It sure sounds like you got friends coming over that hill. We aren’t trusting too much of anything a stranger says right now. Our buddy Tony over here ain’t doin' so hot. He got a chunk ripped out of his shoulder and broke all out in a sweat afterwards. He says he’s okay, but I don’t know; I'm pretty sure he needs a doctor.”
Jude rubbed his hands through his hair. He said, “You all been around anyone who's been bit by one of them zombies?”
“What’s this zombie shit you’re talking about? We woke up to go do some side work that we usually do on Sundays. We ended up running into a bunch of crazy bastards out walking around.”
“Maybe you want to try and put a little distance between you and your buddy there, before he decides you're worth eating.”
Tony yelled in his defense, not knowing what he was talking about. “I ain’t gonna do no such thing. He’s a goddamn liar, Bubba, I wouldn’t do that to you. Lying son of a bitch.”
Tony tried to walk forward, but fell to the ground, clutching at his arm as if he were having a heart attack. Bubba leaned over, not in the least bit worried for his own safety. "You okay, Tony? Doc McPherson ain’t in town this weekend; he went over to his lake house to go fishing. You need anything more than a Tylenol, and you're screwed.”
Jude hollered for good measure, “Guys, you might want to give him just a little bit more room. It happens pretty fast, and when it doesn't, well, it ain’t pretty...not at all. Smashing in his head might not be a bad start to slow him down.”
Bubba waved a hand for Jude to shut up, and that was when the screaming began. Jude didn’t have a great view, but from his experience with the bitten, he knew exactly what was happening. It all started within a second of the first scream, intertwined with the first growl coming from Tony—the newest of his kind. Bubba screamed now, and it became a gurgled cry for help as blood shot into the air and covered the rest of the men’s backs. Bubba’s yell became a chorus of screams as the others who had gathered around became victims. The five men who weren’t close all backed up, still unsure what to do.
Jude screamed to them, “Fucking run, and run now, damn it. Get your stupid asses out of there and don’t waste any time doing it. The bitten dead are faster. They aren’t like the dead ones that came out of the ground. These are as quick as you and I, and they aren’t very goddamn forgiving. Come on now, get on outta there, please! You don’t have to die!”
The strangers made their first mistake, which coincidentally was also their last. They shouldered their rifles, aiming at the dead and firing away. If they’d been in a war against the living, they would have successfully taken down their targets. Unfortunately for these men, they only drew all attention their way. The dead ran toward the men gripping the rifles and, falling upon them, knocked them to the ground.
The men didn’t know how to react against the dead. The fact that they had been friends with them for most of their lives did little to help. The dead leaned in, ripping chunk after chunk from their necks. They wasted no time on savoring the taste of their meals; instead they went bite after bite until their stomachs were swollen from the meals in front of them.
Jude turned around to run back and get his gear, but his companions were already running toward him. Chuck said, “Would you get this damn thing going? We got two choices on what direction to go, and they both suck. But I tell ya, the ones back there are going to take a hell of a lot longer to clear out than these new zombies. You got any issues with that?”
“I don’t give a damn what we do, so long as we don’t just sit here waiting on all the shit to hit the fan. Gimme that saw and let's head down the hill.”
Chuck did as he was told and yanked back on the cord. He revved it, letting a chain of smoke fill the air, and marched down the hill, keeping the saw up and ready.
Jude thought about what the women had said earlier, about not being able to keep the axe held high for fear of their arms eventually going numb. He couldn’t think of a time in his life when he’d been happier to have a physical job for a living; especially the type that went hand in hand with a zombie apocalypse. The few men who weren’t yet being attacked by the dead were still holding up their rifles as Jude approached.
Jude walked in the opposite way of the nervous man with the gun still being pointed at Jude as if he was the most dangerous thing around him at the moment. He ran the gas at full throttle, lifting the saw blade to the dead's neck. It screamed in anger and frustration. The saw held it back. Jude held strong to his position, the saw sending a spray of neck fat and blood everywhere, and let the dead use its own weight to send the blade all the way through its neck. Its dead eyes went black and its head rolled away, spinning on the ground.
The four men remaining watched as Jude looked around, ready for the next one. Chuck caught one which was still busy eating Bubba, and sliced through the back of its head, splitting it down the middle. When it fell to the ground, Chuck brought up a very large work boot and used everything he had to crack its head completely open. “Now that is how you take care of one of them zombies, boys. You don’t got the right tools to be able to—”
One of the younger men, who couldn’t have been more than a teenager, walked up just short of Chuck, aiming steady. For one quick moment, Chuck thought that this was the end and he was going to be shot. The kid pulled the trigger twice, then lowered the gun, shooting just off the ground. Chuck looked up, rubbing his free hand over everything, making sure that
all his favorite things were still there. He said, “What the fuck are you shooting at me for? Did you hit your fucking head or something, boy?”
The teen pointed behind Chuck. “You can call me Charlie. Just remember my useless gun just saved your ass.”
Chuck turned around to see one of the dead on the ground, both of its kneecaps leaking reddish-black fluid. Chuck revved up one more time, putting the blade into its forehead until it came out the top of its skull. “That thing is good for dropping them.” Chuck revved the chainsaw again and continued, “This here thing is good for keeping the bastards down.”
Charlie looked around, seeing all of the men in his group had been eaten or had abandoned him. He pointed at the dead which were still making their approach. “So what about all of them? What are we going to do with those things?”
Jude said, “There isn’t any we, kid. My memory must be better than yours, because if I remember, just a few minutes ago you all were aiming everything you had at us and were threatening to take us out. It seems like we know just a little bit more about the dead than you all do—or, I guess, than you do, since your buddies are either dead or gone now. We need a vehicle, kid. You think you could help us with that?”
“Depends. Where are you going?”
“We're heading to Kansas City. We want to get on the news,” Chuck said.
“You got zombies walking around eating people and all you guys want to do is go and try to get on the news? Don’t you think maybe people could use your help killing these things?” Charlie asked.
Joann cut in. “Look—Charlie, is it? We don’t just want to get on the news, we need to get on the news. We were in the town where all of this started. We need to warn people about the rainwater and about the dead. I think it’s going to get much worse before it gets better. With the humidity the way it is, we're going to be looking at some serious thunderstorms.”
Charlie scratched his head. “I’m sorry, but did you guys take some bad drugs or something earlier? You sound insane—you know this, right?”
