“Woops. That cabbage is still doing a number on me. Can’t say I’ll miss it.”
Katya held in a smile – and her breath – and walked a bit farther away from her protector. It wasn’t long before she noticed Left-Nut was following closely behind. Or, more specifically, just her behind.
“Move it,” she rasped and cleared her throat. This was a different lifestyle indeed, and they hadn’t even gone a hundred yards yet.
And so Katya’s new adventure began as they traveled by foot through a countryside she’d lived next to for years but had never seen. The morning went by without much excitement as Charlie talked to Sam about sports and Smokey babbled on about his favorite TV shows, neither of which Katya had any clue about. Still, she enjoyed the company and the sound of human voices, even if Rob had to shoo Left-Nut away from time to time.
She didn’t know it, but the reason the morning had gone by so smoothly was due to the Koreans. Ping and Pong had forged ahead to scout for the group and had already dealt with several random zombies in a discreet and efficient manner. Obviously they had been a worthy addition to the gang. It remained to be seen if Katya would be the same.
After several hours of hiking under a cloudy sky, Charlie decided it was time for a quick break and stopped them by the edge of the forest. The group huddled together into a protective circle while sipping from water bottles. Katya produced a crusty loaf of bread from her pack and it was quickly passed around.
“I baked this, today,” she said with effort.
“Thanks,” Charlie said. “You sound better already. Now if we only knew what the hell they were saying, we’d be in business,” he added while pointing to one of the Koreans coming back from across the next field.
“I might be able to talk to them,” Left-Nut said casually between chews. “Wow, this bread is drier than an old lady’s—”
“Don’t you think that might have been important to know?” Charlie asked while forming a fist. It was something that happened every time he talked to his white-haired frenemy.
“You never asked,” Left-Nut said. “And to be honest, my Korean’s a little shaky. I met this hot chick from Seoul while playing in a StarCraft tournament online. I wanted to bang her so bad but then I found out she was only sixteen… so then I really wanted to bang her. Never did, though. Such a shame.”
Smokey looked absolutely disgusted. “Not cool, man. But leaving your creepiness factor aside for a moment, it’s worth a shot. Let her rip.”
Left-Nut smiled at Pong and tried to communicate. This amounted to him asking if “Pong’s sweater nipples were hungry apple.”
Pong arched an eyebrow, obviously baffled by the string of what resembled authentic frontier gibberish. “Mo-na-ra-dŭt-kke-ssŏ-yo,” he replied, clearly confused.
Left-Nut looked at Charlie. “See, now we’re making progress. I asked him if he had a sister and he said he would love for me to meet her.”
“Damn it, just ask him if they plan on sticking around with us. Every time they go off we don’t know if they’re coming back or not.”
“Fine, fine. That’s out of my range, but I’ll get serious.” He turned back to Pong. “Chŏ-nŭn han-gung-mal chal-mo-t’ae-yo,” he said, admitting that his Korean was bad. The pronunciation was way off, but Pong understood. Progress.
The soldier nodded with a smile and pulled him aside so the two could set about learning each other’s language in earnest. It was an odd pair for sure – a North Korean trained for asymmetric warfare and an American lowlife skilled in the arts of douchebaggery – but these were odd times.
While they worked on the fundamentals, Charlie told Katya of their plans. They had about a hundred miles to go before reaching their destination, and that was as the crow flies. Dealing with the terrain while avoiding cannibals and the Chinese army could add plenty of extra ground to cover. “We just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep our eyes peeled. Plus, no more delays would be nice,” he added while casting a glance in Left-Nut’s direction.
After fifteen minutes the group got back at it, rehydrated and ready to rock. They crossed the next empty field in high spirits as Big Rob quietly serenaded everyone with an amazing rendition of the Elvis classic “Don’t Be Cruel.” Even Pong was humming along, though he had no clue what the words meant.
As they prepared to enter the next wooded patch, the other Korean popped out from the trees and was in an unmistakably agitated state. “Tta-ra o-se-yo!” he exclaimed, motioning them to follow.
Everyone gripped their weapons tightly as they followed close behind, the language barrier adding an extra layer of worry. Nobody was prepared for the sight that greeted them inside the forest.
Bodies. Lots of them. Everyone save Katya had already seen their fair share of the dead, but this was something different entirely. Some were skeletal, others fresh, but all had been impaled on crudely carved wooden stakes that protruded from the ground.
“This isn’t good,” Rob said as he swatted away a large crow that had been pecking at a woman’s putrid eyeball.
Katya grasped her rosary and began saying as many prayers as she could, fighting through the pain that each word caused her.
“Were they zombies or people?” Sam asked as he looked at the body of a red-haired girl about his age. She could have been his sister.
“Does it matter?” Left-Nut asked.
“I think so, yes,” the boy answered.
Smokey checked a few of the bodies. “Yep, they all have bite marks. Whoever did this is a badass.”
“No, whoever did this is mucho loco,” Charlie said. “We’re talking Dahmer level here. We’d best keep moving.”
Katya said a few more prayers and then they hurried from the macabre setting. Minutes later the group arrived near the edge of the forest where they came upon a small farmstead. A few scrawny head of cattle milled about behind a wooden fence as dozens of chickens foraged for insects in the tall grass.
A tall man opened the gate to gather the chickens and then stopped, looking in their direction. He was built like Hercules and his haircut was very distinct, sort of a hybrid mullet with the sides shaved off. Rob wasted no time and charged from their hidden position with the war cry of a fanatic on his lips. Rather than bash the man’s brains on the spot, however, Rob tossed his bat aside and collided with him instead, taking the guy down hard.
The chickens fluttered around in a panic as the two titans fought for position. With much effort, Rob was able to stay on top and began to rain blows down on his adversary. The old ground and pound.
But the pummeled man somehow pulled a Rambo-style knife from his belt and shoved it upwards at Rob’s thick neck. The sound of automatic gunfire made him stop mid slash, however, and he dropped the weapon to the ground.
Pong lowered his weapon and Charlie pulled Big Rob back. Now was his chance to recognize the wounded mystery man. His jaw dropped at the revelation. It was Vladimir. The Dragon. Draganov. World Champion fighter and all-around villain.
“You ruined my life you piece of shit,” Rob said as he gasped for air and contemplated another go of it.
Vladimir was also fighting for breath, but he had a dumb smile on his face at the same time.
“Unfortunate? Yes, but are not all lives ruined?” He spit a mouthful of bloody teeth onto the ground. “Nice to see you, too.”
“Fuck off.”
An elderly man and woman tentatively walked towards the group, carrying pitchforks and speaking a Russian-sounding language. Vlad waved at them to back off. “Besides, not my fault. Owner set you up. Owner set me up when problems with skanks began. We peas in pod.”
“No, we aren’t anything alike,” Rob said and continued to glare at him with murder on his mind.
Charlie intervened at just the right moment to prevent further meathead mayhem. “Why don’t you bring up the rear for a few and cool off?” he suggested to Rob.
Rob nodded and sulked off as the others scanned the premises for danger. They
were very close to the impaled bodies, after all. Charlie struck a conciliatory tone. “Look, we’re just passing through on our way to Cantonville. Obviously Rob was surprised at seeing you, and the fight was unfortunate. Sorry.”
“Still many miles to Cantonville,” Vlad replied as he sized up the group. “Very dangerous miles.”
“That’s for us to worry about,” Charlie said.
“Headed to base there?” Vlad asked.
“None of your business. Again, sorry for Rob blasting you in the face thirty times, and goodbye.”
“Don’t be so hasty. We off on wrong ankle with scuffle, but that is no biggie.” The Bulgarian’s broken English was reminiscent of Vidu’s halting speech and just as irritating.
Charlie sighed. “I don’t have time to beat around the bush. What do you want? In one sentence.”
“Direct approach. I like that—”
“That’s it, we’re going.”
“Fine, fine. Take me with you,” Vlad said, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.
Rob came charging back. “No fucking way he’s coming with us. The guy’s a rapist.”
“Not guilty, bitch.”
“Like you didn’t pay off a juror?”
Vladimir failed to contest Rob on that point. “Not matter. Vlad innocent anyways.”
Charlie stepped between the two giants. “I’d swear you guys used to date. Anyways, let’s crank the testosterone down a notch, both of you.” He turned to Vlad. “Why would we want to take you along?”
Vlad retrieved the long knife from his belt and threw it at a wooden post fifteen yards away, burying it to the hilt. “Was Bulgarian special forces ten years. Trained to kill, live off land, and travel undetected. All things needed to get to Cantonville. Plus, Vlad has chickens. Armies march faster on full bellies.”
Rob let his guard down ever so slightly when food was mentioned while Charlie ground his teeth, pondering the offer. For sure, Vladimir could prove to be a deadly, albeit annoying, ally. On the other hand, he was a known psychopath with extremely violent tendencies and a total disregard for authority.
So basically, Vlad was no different than half of the ragtag band of survivors.
Charlie pointed to the aged couple. “And you’re okay with leaving your parents here, defenseless?”
“That Vlad’s mother, but not Vlad’s father. Father was great warrior, died in battle with communists. That is uncle. The coward is good for cleaning chicken coop and little else.”
“Regardless, I mean… there’s a bunch of bodies on spikes not far from here, not to mention the zombies and the Chinese soldiers,” Charlie pressed.
“Tossing crazies on spikes great way to stay in shape. Also keeps, how you say, looky-loos away from farm. Anyways, Vlad wanted to protect mother when world went topsy-turvy. But she driving crazy with chores.” He pointed to his barrel chest. “World champion three years. Now? Castrate pigs, shovel shit, feed chickens. No more.” He walked over to the post to recover his knife. “Have heard of Spartacus? Was born in Bulgaria. Draganov lore claims him as ancestor. Many others in family honored fighters, too. To be like them, Vlad must die in glorious battle.”
Charlie arched an eyebrow. “And?”
“And Vlad not find glorious battle at Bumfuck chicken farm.”
At least they knew what maniac was responsible for the impaled zombies and why Vlad so desperately wanted to join them.
“Okay, we’re gonna talk this over so give us a minute,” Charlie said.
“Take time.”
The group huddled up. Currently sober and unimpaired by any other mind-altering substances, they were at least thinking clearly.
Rob spoke first. “No. No effing way,” he said quietly, almost in a growl. “Vlad can’t be trusted.”
“If he can throw a zombie onto a spike as cross-training, the dude has mad skills. Sorry bro,” Smokey said. “He could help us for sure.”
Sam nodded in agreement. “I saw him on television. The guy can fight. And no offense to Miss Katya, but after all those vegetables, meat sounds good.”
“I agree with the pledge. I want some damned chicken,” Left-Nut said with his mouth watering at the thought. “Plus he can kick Rob’s big ass. So for me it’s a win-win.”
“He cheated,” Rob mumbled as the harsh realization set in that, yes, the apocalypse could get even worse. The man that had ruined Rob’s real life would once again become a thorn in his side.
“Katya?” Charlie said. “He has a bad history with women. Like, Chris Brown bad.”
“I have no idea who that is, but I trust you to make the right decision,” she said.
Charlie placed his hand on Rob’s shoulder. It was settled. “Sorry, but we can’t let our personal vendettas get in the way of survival. If we did, Left-Nut would be dead by now. So we’ll keep him on a tight leash, and if he doesn’t fit in, we send him packing. Consider it a test drive.”
“Big mistake,” Rob said.
“Maybe so,” Charlie said, more to himself as the huddle dispersed. “Vlad, grab that chicken, pack your gear and say your goodbyes. You’re coming with us. Just don’t forget, you pull any scandalous maneuvers and you’re on your own.”
Vlad retrieved some items from the farmhouse and then hugged his crying mother while totally ignoring his uncle. Moments later he led the growing group of misfits into the next forest beyond the farm.
“Is woman spoken for?” Vlad said to nobody in particular. Katya turned to give him a dirty look and Vlad saw her scar for the first time. “Whoa, never mind. Has body of gymnast and face of burnt patatnik.” He smacked Left-Nut’s arm. “Gives me… how you say opposite of hard-on? Soft-off?”
Left-Nut grinned. “Vladimir, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
“Probably, you both have the personality of hotdog water,” Charlie said, immediately second guessing his decision. “Now, less chatting and more walking. We have a lot of miles to cover today. And crack open that basket of chicken.”
Chapter 15: It’s Complicated
The summer had been a hard one for the girls, and they were thankful it was finally coming to a close. Modern living had left their bodies unaccustomed to the realities of hot weather, and a cool breeze that particular night had been welcome indeed. But lower temperatures would not solve all their problems.
Jackie worked her hand axe back and forth before it ultimately popped out of a dead man’s skull with a plopping sound. She wiped the blade off on dry grass and breathed a sigh of relief. “That was a close one.”
“Tell me about it,” Padma said as she rose to her feet and brushed dirt off her scraped knees. “Thanks. I didn’t see him coming.”
“It’s way too dark out here. We need to find somewhere to hide for the night, and soon. There are just too many biters out here.” Jackie’s last comment was an understatement as the forest seemed to be crawling with zombies for no apparent reason. Even worse, the light of the full moon meant their movements could be easily detected by the sharp-eyed maniacs.
“Maybe we could check the road again?” Jen said. “There could be a car with tinted windows or something. I’d even sleep under one right now. Or even in the trunk.”
Jackie nodded. “Okay. Let’s shadow the highway for a bit. If anyone sees trouble, though, it’s right back into the woods.”
The group of women had been nomads for months, roving from one location to the next, pilfering food and supplies while trying to stay ahead of whatever threats lurked nearby. Their first few weeks had been spent hiding in an abandoned sub-division while eking out a meager existence on wild berries, bugs, and rainwater. But they had slowly wasted away, and Jackie was forced to lead them into the unfamiliar lands southwest of the city. From there they had been driven on by empty stomachs, both their own and by those of their mindless adversaries.
For the most part they’d survived using stealth and patience. After being on the move for fourteen hours straight, though, the latter was in
short supply. They bypassed several abandoned trucks and a tipped-over RV, and found what they were looking for. Up ahead was a large van with expensive rims and tinted windows.
“Looks like a rape van,” Mary said, then bit her lip, expecting some unkind words in response to the gaffe.
Jen calmly stared ahead, emotionless. “No, it does. But it’s just what we need. My blisters are killing me and I can’t keep my eyes open. Are we ready?”
They were, and the four friends burst from the cover of the scrub trees and rapidly made their way through the overgrown weeds surrounding the highway.
Exposed and clearly visible under the ample moonlight, this was an enormous risk for a group more comfortable playing it safe. But sometimes it paid to go against your own ground rules.
This was not one of those times. The doors were locked and Mary yanked in futility on the handle. Which is when the car alarm turned on.
“Shit, back to the woods,” Jackie said as the loud alarm faded away with the last of the car’s battery.
Padma held her hand up. “Hold on. Maybe it’s okay?”
It wasn’t. Scores of infected bolted towards them from farther down the road as well as from the tree line, scuttling towards them like ants joining a picnic.
There were definitely too many to fight off with handheld weapons, and the women were malnourished and in no shape for a pitched battle anyway. This left only one option.
“Follow me,” Jackie said as she took off straight down the middle of the road.
A quarter of a mile later and the women were already tiring, with Jen in particular lagging behind. Jackie opened the door of a truck they’d seen earlier and looked for keys. Nothing. She ran to the next one, and again came up empty.
“Climb onto the mobile home,” Padma said between pants, realizing Jen was about to faint. As they prepared to scale the tipped Winnebago and engage in a brutal last stand, something in the distance caught all of their attention. Headlights. And they were approaching.
Dead Drunk II: Dawn of the Deadbeats (Dead Drunk: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse... One Beer at a Time Book 2) Page 11
