by Mark Clodi
“Gone?”
“Yeah, they put him in the office like I said and when I spoke to the Major he mentioned they had a brig they could secure him in until we figured out what to do. Well, I called back to the Mike's Club and asked them to send Jeff on over so they could take him out of here, you know, before anything happened to him and they said Jeff had taken off.”
“Really?” Kevin puzzled this over a few minutes, then said, “Hank I didn't know the guy that well, seemed like an asshole, I mean not at first but as the night wore on he just got worse and worse. He was definitely not a brave asshole. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would get the balls to escape. You know what I mean? More like the kind to take his punishment, blame someone else and complain bitterly about it the whole time.”
“I kinda got the idea that maybe they knew something else about it too. I spoke to Sanchez, I mean that guy knows everything, don't let his age fool you Kevin” Juan nodded in agreement, “he knows something and he is not telling me. I know he would not lie to me, he wouldn't do that. The thing is, if I asked him directly, 'What happed to Jeff?', would I want to know the answer? Maybe it is better if I don't?”
“Aw shit. You think they killed him?” Kevin groaned.
“I don't know Kevin, I don't know. I suppose I had better find out, I just...don't want to..not right now. Juan? You wanna do it?”
Thinking for a minute he answered slowly, “Sì. Yes I think I do. This is the kind of job the second man gets. The dirty job?”
Hank nodded.
Chapter 32
A small stream flowed between the broken concrete of some long ago finished deconstruction. The old pilings and smashed rubble was put in place to shackle nature to man's artificial designs, to prevent erosion from washing out the banks of the stream during the short flood season, which could cause tremendous damage to the local infrastructure if left unchecked. At the top of the broken concrete there was a zombie, a middle aged man with a stupid, grinning face, he lowered his head to the body he was eating on. The body, in the zombie's eyes had a glowing rainbow color that was slowly draining away, the blood and flesh the zombie was stripping off of the corpse was invigorating the zombie, making it stronger, bringing back memories and opening new vistas in the rotting corpse's mind. The newly aware zombie sat up and said roughly, “David. My name is David. I remember now.” looking down on the body he went on, “It tastes so good!” this prey had been easy to come upon, it was beaten and injured and more importantly outside the protective zone that David knew was the Mike's Club. The prey had not even struggled until David bit into its thigh ripping off a chunk of bloody muscle mixed in with the tough denim of the man's blue jeans. That bite had gotten a reaction, a scream and a weak attempt to back pedal away that led to nothing. The prey had been too wounded to fight off even a poor, weak zombie like David. As he started to lower his head again towards Jeff's bloody torso a shot rang out and a thirty-thirty bullet took off the top of David's brain, causing enough damage to end his miserable second life in a fountain of red-black gore. David's body fell across that of Jeffs, who was not yet dead, but well beyond feeling at this point. As his life's blood drained out of him Jeff could only think of one thing; how unfair everything was. If he could do it again he would make it fair, he would make. It. Fair.
Chapter 33
Hank, Juan and Kevin were sharing a joke when the door to Kevin's room opened up and the woman Kevin had met out in the Mike's Club parking lot tentatively inched her way into the room in one hand she held a bouquet of flowers in a green glassware vase.
“Knock, knock!” called Krystal as she forced her way into the room. “You guys got room for one more?”
Raising his eyebrows at the sight of the woman Juan nodded 'yes', while Hank said “Sure!”
Turning to Juan Hank asked, “Is this Krystal? The woman you were telling us about?”
Krystal answered, “Yep that's me, you must be Hank then? And Juan, right? I knew Kevin rubbed shoulders with the big wigs, it is the only reason I warmed up to him. Enjoy these flowers Kevin, I know they are not very manly, but there are not going to be many of them in the future, the hospital gift shop only has a few vases left.”
Hank took Krystal's proffered hand and then offered to take the flowers from her, she relinquished them with good grace and he set them onto the nightstand behind him.
“Hate to bring you bad news boys, but Nanci says to get out. Hank has his own room he should be resting in and Juan, well, I guess Juan has things he is supposed to be doing too, so scoot you two. Nanci's orders. I think she is running things around here now.”
Looking at each other Hank and Juan left Krystal and Kevin to themselves. As soon as they were in the hallway Nanci magically appeared and told Hank he was supposed to be in the room next door to Kevin's. The doctors wanted him to rest up, after all broken ribs were no laughing matter. Hank grunted in assent and trudged to his assigned room while Nanci led Juan away with a quick goodbye.
Back in Kevin's room Krystal approached him warily, “I just wanted to say thanks for this morning.” she gestured at the flowers.
Kevin nodded, “Aw, yeah, it was nothing, you'da done the same for me, I know it.”
Krystal raised her eyebrow and responded, “Maybe...I like to think I would have anyway.”
“You would have, I know you would, you're, I don't know, different, you're good, I can tell.”
“Thanks Kevin, I appreciate that and I like that you see that in me.” Krystal shrugged, unsure of how to proceed, haltingly she said, “So, uh, tell me your story, how you ended up at the club and all. You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine? Okay?”
Kevin nodded his agreement and the two spent the afternoon listening, talking and eventually crying together.
Hank shut the door to his room behind him and looked longingly at the bed. He had not slept well in ages and a real bed and getting some real sleep appealed to him. He was unbuckling his pants when the bathroom door behind him opened up, he was startled and turned to face Evaine, pants half undone.
“Oh Hank!” she stepped forward and embraced him, “Finally! Some action!”
Turning red Hank stammered, “Uh, Evaine. I uh, didn't know you were in here! Nanci didn't say, she just said this was my room.” Hank started doing up his pants and belt, when Evaine put her hand on his, stopping him.
She looked him in the eye and said in a low whisper, “Hank, I wasn't kidding.” Evaine didn't move her hand as she continued, “I am ready for that.”
Epilogue
The stream tumbled over the rocks behind the Mike's club, babbling like a first grader playing the part. It takes a long time to die when no major arteries are nicked. A trail of blood wept from Jeff's body down past various insects thrilled with the sudden, unexpected red bounty, and ultimately it ran into the stream. The sun set. The persistent noise from the Mike's Club died to almost utter silence, slowly the birds stopped chirping, leaving only the babbling stream. At last the blood stopped flowing, with a great heave and an exhalation like air leaving an untied balloon, Jeff's body grew still. Nothing broke the noise of the stream. Then, slowly, very slowly Jeff's head lifted off of the broken piece of concrete it was resting upon. He rose quietly and shoved David's body off of him. The body held no interest to Jeff, it was dead and black, no color at all. Above him, near the top of the ravine, beyond a short stairway leading to the loading dock door stood a lone guard watching the night with a pair of binoculars. Jeff couldn't smile, not yet, but he recognized instinctively what prey looked like when he saw it.
Author's Note-
First I have to say, I am rather fond of author's notes. It is a chance to break out of telling a story to say whatever I want. I feel pretty confident doing so because, hey, who reads “Author's Notes” anyway? I look at some of the writer's I admire and they always seemed to have these notes at the end that I rarely read, until one day I started reading them. Usually the information was of only trivial interest to me. Who ca
res how you came up with your character “Ted”? Or that the book was written on a bus ride from L.A. to New York? Just give me more “Ted”! Now! Now! Now! These days I do tend to read the author's notes, I see it as a sign of my growing maturity. Oh and I find most of them interesting too.
“Undead Advantage” started life as “The Ballad of Hank and Juan” which was shortened to “Hank and Juan” then the title search got left to stew for awhile until I did the editing. The book does not really end; it just comes to a stopping point where I know it can be left to the imagination on how things go from here. I could write more on the group, but I don't think there will be an “Undead Advantage II”. Hank and Juan will be looked in on from time to time, especially a decade and a half after z-day, but for now their story is finished.
This book was the second one I started and the third one I finished. Between starting it and finishing it I wrote “Found” and I cannot imagine why I did things that way. I have always been one who jumps around with different writing projects, then looks in surprise at those I have finished, wondering “Now just how did that happen?” Please don't misunderstand me; I usually do a great deal of plotting out what is going to happen and how each book will end, I just don't write them all at once. I am settling into a pattern where I am getting closer to that goal, to focus on a single item at a time, but I am not there yet.
I write zombie books because I like writing about zombies, not because I have any illusions that my works are great world literature. The point of fiction is just to give the reader a bit of a break from a 'normal' life and if I did that, then I did my job.
Thank you for reading!
Mark Clodi
June 16th, 2009
Revised July 3rd, 2010
