by Joshua Price
“What exactly did you practice on?”
“SMALL ANIMALS.”
“Really?”
“NO.”
Dr. Malevolent placed her hand over her heart and sighed. She may disregard the safety of human beings, but innocent little animals were another story. Every weekend she was not fighting off a zombie outbreak, or fighting to get back from the future, she volunteered at animal shelters—in disguise of course, she would never let anyone know of her soft streak for innocent animals. Her enemies would certainly use that information against her.
Charlie glanced up at the pipe-lined ceiling and remembered his plan to follow the red ones. He left the corpses behind and pressed forth, but after thirty seconds or so, a wrinkle in this faultless plan presented itself. Just beyond where Freight left those lovely desecrated corpses, the path forked in two. Both paths had pipes along their ceiling and none of which were red.
Dr. Malevolent pointed to the pipework. “Well, there goes that plan. What say you now, great leader?”
Charlie lifted his flashlight and shined it down the left tunnel, revealing more pipes and more grey concrete. He shined it down the other tunnel and illuminated the few dozen zombies crammed into it.
“Let’s go the other way,” he said calmly.
Without wasting much time, they headed down the zombieless tunnel. Behind, dozens of the undead creatures had roused from their idle loitering and were now headed straight for them. To counteract this advance, the urban spelunkers put a little spring in their step. As they all knew by now, zombies were damned slow, so Charlie had absolutely no problems keeping the pace as he led the charge. Freight closed in behind, occasionally looking over his shoulder in anticipation of the chance to blow some undead to smithereens. Already, the moans had begun to fade and the giant man let out a disappointed grumble. How was he going to kill any zombies if he and the others were busy going in the opposite direction; these flesh-eating monstrosities would have to alter their strategy to have any hopes on catching these scrumptious sacks of fresh meat. Coincidentally, as the heroes fled around a sharp corner, the zombies proved that is just what they did. A mess of them now moaned and shuffled straight for them.
With a manly whine, Freight begged permission to go ape shit on these corpses. Charlie began to nod, but before his chin fell, Freight adorned Courtney and commenced the slaughter. Within a matter of seconds, he had obliterated a large hunk of zombies in their path, but more quickly took their place. Freight just kept shooting. Zombies just kept dying. And more just kept appearing with no end in sight. Hiding within the group, Captain Rescue decided to pull his weight. The hero pushed his way forward and eventually stood right next to Freight. After smiling at the not-so-gentle giant, he waited a few seconds for Freight to reciprocate, but when he did not, Captain Rescue gave a subtle frown and then went into his utility belt. He withdrew a golf ball sized white capsule and then launched at the impending dead. The capsule exploded and spewed white paint all over the zombies.
Charlie shined his flashlight at them. “What did that accomplish?”
“Turn out your light,” the hero replied excitedly.
Charlie flipped off his flashlight and the zombies glowed brightly.
Captain Rescue added, “Now we can see them in the dark!”
The bunny flipped the light on and off a few times, enjoying the show. “I suppose that has its uses.”
Freight took a moment’s break from slaughtering those already dead and looked down at his shotgun. He petted the barrel and shouted, “YOU MISSED THIS DIDN’T YOU.”
The shotgun went off into a cluster of corpses as if replying.
“I KNEW IT.”
Charlie looked at Freight’s shotgun and said, “We’re lucky Freight doesn’t leave home without that thing.”
“THAT THING IS MY WIFE.”
“Why does it matter?” Captain Rescue asked.
Freight’s decimation of zombie after zombie continued as Charlie replied, “’Cause we’re, for the most part, unarmed.”
“Well, we’re superheroes, we don’t need guns.”
“What are you going to do… glow-in-the-dark them to death?”
“If that’s what it takes!” Captain Rescue cheered enthusiastically as he tossed another capsule at the zombies.
“And besides, you seemed just fine with that laser rifle.”
Captain Rescue said, through more exploding zombies brought on by Freight’s skillful execution, “Laser rifles aren’t guns, and besides, I didn’t even need it. I’ve grown as a hero.”
“Really, how?”
After wiping away a severed hand that flew into his suit, Captain Rescue began his speech: “The dolphins! These are trying times for humanity, and if we wish to survive the oncoming storm of dolphins, we must band together and hone our skills. We must fight the beast at its source; we must crush it before it crushes us.”
Charlie interrupted him before he could be allowed to ramble any longer, “’Hone our skills’? Really, go kill one zombie, just one.”
“Certainly,” Captain Rescue said as an eyeball smacked him in the face. He stretched briefly and then leaned over, ready to sprint head first into the dwindling horde of zombies.
Charlie grabbed his cape. “I was kidding, you’ll hurt yourself.”
Dr. Malevolent, who had been doing her best to knock the occasional zombie head off with her inanimate carbon rod, leaned in towards Charlie and Captain Rescue and said, “By all means, if you want to get yourself killed, be my guest.”
Freight cut in, “THAT WON’T BE NECESSARY.”
As the three observers followed close behind the machine of a man tearing through heaps of zombies, Dr. Malevolent began to seriously wonder how on Earth he became so much more proficient a killer. Not that he wasn’t the last time they did this dance, but this was simple ridiculous. She did not recall any other zombie outbreaks since the last, but he seemed to be a tenfold version of himself, and that was a lot of Freight.
Dr. Malevolent pressed her heel into the twitching head of zombie. “We need to get you some kind of costume. You’re basically a superhero now.”
Little did Dr. Malevolent know, that’s just what this lumberjack ensemble was supposed to be—a costume. Freight spent hours one afternoon hunting down the clothes he wanted in the fabric he wanted in just the color he wanted. Sure, the overalls and red plaid shirt made him look like a lumberjack, but for some crazy reason, that’s what he wanted, and nobody stood in the way of this man and what he wanted. Trains such as Freight do have a hard time coming to a stop, and Freight never stopped.
They pushed forward as the train did all the work, and the others stood by in astonishment. He cut down zombie after zombie as if they were mere trees and he, a mere lumberjack. Freight operated like clockwork; in twelve seconds, he would unload Courtney, and then in another six seconds he would grab shells from the magical ammunition factory in his pocket, load her up, and get back to work. These six seconds of downtime, however, were more than enough for the zombies to advance just a little closer, and, as the minutes ticked by, the narrow maintenance tunnels became even narrower. Captain Rescue did his part, though, and flung capsule after capsule. That way, if the lights went out, they could still see the advancing hordes, even if the one and only flashlight had heavy-duty batteries that would probably last the rest of the decade.
Before Freight and his shotgun could have too much fun, a zombie stumbled out from the horde, crashed into Charlie, and knocked the flashlight clean out of his hands. In slow motion, the tip smacked into the concrete and the lights went out. Instantly, glow-in-the-dark zombies illuminated the tunnel—an oddly beautiful sight. Awe-inspiringly stylistic zombie slaying ensued for a few moments as Charlie snatched the flashlight from the ground and gave it a few good whacks until its beam of light soothed their hearts once more.
They pushed farther and the nearly decommissioned flashlight caught of glimpse of something promising. Between two of the brainless beas
ts, Charlie noticed a heavy metal doorway with a thick bulky handle. While zombies were certainly known to burst through almost any doorway, this one appeared unscathed by zombie claws. Charlie called to the others, but the moans of shuffling zombies drowned him out. Finally, he pulled their attention with a ferocious bunny yell and yanked open the door. After the others rushed through, Charlie slammed it shut over the fingers of a dozen zombies, slicing them clean off. As the bunny twisted the handle closed, the zombies began slamming against the door, demanding that their fingers be returned at once.
Charlie motioned for the hallway behind them, suggesting they get out of here lickity split. As the bunny headed down the corridor, Freight stayed behind and eyed the door intently. Charlie sighed, grabbed his arm, and away they went. The mammoth man let the bunny drag him in a most dramatic fashion as he extended his arm towards the door and reached out to the zombies behind it—longing for them as a fat kid longed for clichés. Freight felt Charlie’s grip loosen and he looked forward. The hallway concluded with a small grey concrete room that had a generator humming in the center; a dead end. Excitement came to Freight as he realized fate would soon reunite him with his long lost zombie cousins.
Charlie turned the room upside down looking for another exit, a ventilation shaft, a ladder, anything. They were trapped and the bunny kicked the generator in defiance. “Well, now we’re screwed.”
Captain Rescue fell to his knees. “We’re gonna die down here! The zombies are going to eat us alive.”
“THERE’S ONLY ONE WAY OUTTA THIS,” Freight bellowed, “THE WAY WE CAME IN.”
Dr. Malevolent laughed hard. “Very poignant words, you should do motivation speeches.”
Freight ignored her and began his slow swagger back down the hallway, where dozens of zombies banged on the door to let them in. He would give him what they desired—more than they desired—and he kissed the tip of his shotgun wife for good luck and, just in case, goodbye. As his swagger continued, the tunnel appeared longer and longer while the door grew farther and farther away. Freight reached his destination and everything returned to normal. He cracked a smirk and leaned in for the handle, but as he did so, the banging of angry zombies abruptly ceased.
With a curious eyebrow furl, Freight drew his hand away just as Captain Rescue and the others came up from behind. The hero ran up to the door and pressed his ear against it, listening for the zombies. After a few seconds, he pulled away and said to Freight, “Did you kill them already?”
Freight frowned, said, “NO!” and then reached forward to open the door.
Captain Rescue swatted his hand away. “We can’t just open the door! What if they’re out there waiting for us?”
Freight shoved him aside. “THAT’S JUST WHAT I INTEND TO FIND OUT!” He grabbed hold of the handle and started to open the door just as something on the other side began to knock.
“What is going on!?” Captain Rescue cried as he smacked his palms against the side of his head and grabbed at his hair.
Freight rested the shotgun on his shoulder, lifted his fist to the door, and gave three knocks back. Whoever was on the other side then gave three in return. Freight just shrugged. Then, with Courtney at the ready, he grabbed hold of the handle, gave it a twist, and pulled the door open. Surprising them all, there stood Stubbs with a huge gash down the center of his head and duct tape sealing his midsection. His zombie brethren stood motionless around him and paid no attention to the meat bags on the other side of the metal door.
“Stubbs!” Captain Rescue exclaimed, “I missed you!”
Stubbs let out a hoarse laugh. “I don’t blame you. I’m one of a kind.”
Freight decided now was not the time to reacquaint with old friends. He pointed to the zombies all around. “WHY AREN’T THEY TRYING TO EAT US?”
Stubbs shrugged. “I told them not to.”
Dr. Malevolent stared him down. “And how did you manage that?”
“I don’t know. I guess you could call me their queen. One day I saw one of them about to kill itself, so jokingly I told it to stop… and it did.”
“So, they’re completely harmless now?” Charlie asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t try to hug any of them,” the zombie replied as Charlie grabbed Captain Rescue and yanked him away from one of the zombies.
All the sudden, Dr. Malevolent felt her pocket begin to twitch. She pulled out the lamp just as orange smoke started to spill from it. Soon, Greg the Genie, wearing a mechanic uniform with a dirty rag in his hand, floated before them.
“Nice outfit,” Dr. Malevolent said to the genie.
“Yes, I’m just trying to show that there are some of us here who actually get things done,” Greg replied as he floated through Stubbs and noticed the unferocious undead. “Well,” he added, inspecting them, “that’s just weird.” He glanced to Stubbs, “You did this?”
“Yeah, kind of. They just listen to me.”
“Well, that’s dandy.”
“Now, would someone please fill me in?” the zombie requested.
Dr. Malevolent took a deep breath. “We come from three years in the past, brought here by accident thanks to Captain Numbnuts here. We’re trying to find a way to destroy the gigantic tower nearby that’s preventing us from going home. Once we get there, we’re going to keep this future from ever happening.”
“Wait,” the zombie began, “so if you succeed in your mission, all of this will have never happened?”
“Yes,” Dr. Malevolent said shortly. She expected that the zombie would give them some trouble now that he knew they were trying to scrub him from existence.
“Well okay, the last three years have sucked anyway.”
Dr. Malevolent smiled. That went better than expected.
Charlie grabbed Captain Rescue’s cape and tugged him away from the stagnant zombies once more. “If only this one would listen.”
He swatted the bunny away. “But they’re so interesting, standing there not trying to eat me.”
“Yes well, if you get too close they might change their minds,” Stubbs warned.
An idea dawned on Dr. Malevolent. “You know… we’d have a far easier time saving the world if we had an army of zombies at our finger tips.”
Charlie nodded while his solitary bunny ear bounced around playfully. “That’s a very good point. We would have a much easier time saving the world with you at our side.”
“I think I’d rather spend my last few hours of existence saying goodbye to these fair tunnels,” the zombie replied.
Freight cracked his neck. “THAT’S PERFECTLY FINE, WE DON’T NEED YOU OR YOUR SMELLY FRIENDS.”
“Do you know what this means, though?” Captain Rescue said, “Stubbs here will appear just when the situation is most dire. Just when we think we’re all dead, Stubbs will come out of nowhere riding a goat and be our savior.”
Dr. Malevolent could not help but to laugh. “A goat you say?”
“Yes, a goat would be most majestic,” Captain Rescue nodded.
The zombie chuckled. “Well, until that moment comes, you should carry on with this mission of yours. I’ve never kept them from eating something this long. Not sure how long it will last.”
“What’s the quickest way out of here?” Charlie asked the zombie queen.
Cracking a minor smile, Stubbs pointed left down the hallway. A few yards from the door originally thought to be the entrance to their everlasting tomb, a ladder ascended to the surface. The zombie closed his eyes for a moment as the whites still showed through the hole-riddled lids. Within moments, his brethren started shuffling together, clearing a path from the doorway to the ladder. Stubbs nodded at the adventurers, stepped out of the doorway, and motioned for the exit.
“Before I retreat back into my lamp for some much needed work, there’s something I need to take care of,” Greg said to the bunny rabbit.
“And what is that?” he inquired.
The genie laughed, snapped its fingers, and made Charlie’s severed ear sp
ontaneously reappear.
“You are a godsend.”
“It’s all part of my master plan to enslave you pitiful humans through random acts of kindness.”
“It’s working,” the bunny replied as he inspected its ear.
“I can tell; it’s no wonder you let hairy apes and dolphins take over.”
“Hey!” Captain Rescue yelled, “They have lasers! We don’t have lasers.”
Stubbs coughed. “Flesh eating zombies. Exit. Go.”
“Well,” Charlie said, “I guess this is goodbye.”
Freight jabbed his index finger against the zombie’s chest. “COUNT YOURLESS LUCKY I DIDN’T KILL ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS.”
He raised a fist to the motionless corpses as he marched for the ladder. The zombies paid no attention to him and just stared blankly into each other’s pale white eyes. He climbed the ladder and shoved open the manhole at the top while the others said their warm goodbyes.
“Farewell, old friend!” Captain Rescue said to Stubbs, “May we meet again... when you save our butts!” He waved at the zombies as he ascended the ladder upwards.
“See you later, stinky,” Dr. Malevolent said without a hint of emotion as she ran up the ladder.
Charlie just shrugged to the zombie as he left the maintenance tunnels behind and climbed up the ladder. He crawled through the manhole and closed it shut just as the zombies below resumed their symphony of moans.
Chapter 13: They’re Like the Other Food Group
The maintenance tunnels funneled the gang straight into a certain urinal cake factory, one Captain Rescue identified immediately since he built his super-secret base directly beneath it. Within moments, he realized that if he was not careful, Dr. Malevolent might stumble upon the entrance. Then, she would learn all his dirty crime fighting secrets—all three of them. The six-year-old computer with an internet connection; the cabinet of crime fighting gadgets, bought with said computer; and then his butler, Alfredo, who actually did most of the crime-fighting legwork.
Captain Rescue’s thoughts then turned to that old friend. Was Alfredo dead? Would his shriveled up corpse no longer offer the hero lemonade and sugar cookies? The tears welled in his eyes, but he found solace in the fact that there was always the chance Alfredo survived the dolphin occupation. Perhaps the safe room kept him safe and sound. Captain Rescue thought about that for a moment. Did they even have a safe room? He couldn’t remember. Are they easy to make? Are they cheap? These were questions that he would have find the answers to when he got back to his own time.
