Middletown Apocalypse

by Brett Abell

  “Durgan?”

  “Shhh …” He put his finger up to his lips. Something was close.

  Beth had put her ear up to the door. Her face showed puzzlement then alarm. She moved back into the room. “It sounds like something is sniffing out there.”

  Durgan had his shotgun pointed at the door. There was another loud thud; this happened right before the window exploded inward. Beth jumped as an arm reached in. She was transfixed by the seven-inch shard of glass sticking into the man’s forearm. He should have been howling in pain yet seemed completely oblivious to the slice and the wedge of window stuck there. The shotgun roared as Durgan fired. The man was pushed back and over.

  “What the fuck? It would have been helpful if I was out of the way.”

  “Relax, that was a deer slug not buckshot. No way I could have missed what I was shooting from here.”

  Another set of hands reached in, and an upper torso appeared. A face pressed against the curtain, distorting them into a strange, ghostlike appearance. Even more shocking was when the arm with the glass embedded in it once again poked through.

  “I did not miss!” Durgan was angry the intruder had not the good graces to just die. “Call the cops,” he said after firing off two more rounds.

  Beth went over to the nightstand and picked up the phone; she was greeted with a recorded “… all lines are busy, please try your call …” this cut off and she got three quick pulses of a dial tone and then silence.

  “We’re on our own,” she said as she put the phone down. There was a small semblance of relief within her. No good could come from talking to the police, and now Durgan was openly firing at people. They’d be locked up for good before the end of the night.

  The thudding came against their door again, this time more frenetic; more arms broke through what little glass remained.

  “This can’t be happening.” Either could have said it. They both watched as the glass shard stuck in the man’s arm shredded the curtain as he wildly swung his arms back and forth. He was leaning so far forward Beth thought he was in danger of spilling into the room.

  “Fuck this.” Beth had pulled her pistol out and placed the barrel against the curtain-covered head and pulled the trigger. The white cloth immediately turned a grayish red color, and the arms stiffened right before the man fell backward. “I think he’s dead now.”

  “That’d be safe to say.” Durgan had shuffled closer, but he moved back when another person pushed forward. This one got tangled up and pulled the curtain rod down as she fell inside. She had fallen headfirst onto the carpeted floor. Her legs were hung up on the windowsill and her arms were splayed out to her side. She hesitated for a moment, as if she was unsure of how to make all of her parts work in unison.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Durgan looked over to Beth.

  “She’s acting like she’s shit-faced.”

  Finally, the woman got her hands in closer to her body and pushed up. She was doing what the gym rats would have called a power push-up, with her legs still hung up behind her. She was shaking her head back and forth violently until, finally, she was out and under from the material.

  “Holy shit!” Durgan looked like he’d swallowed a frog. The woman’s face was so distorted as to be unrecognizable. To even call it human was a stretch of the imagination. If not for the gold shock of hair atop the thing’s head, it would have had nothing in common with what it once was. Bone had calcified around the entire skull, pushing it from half an inch to an inch out from where it had been. The effect was such as to make the woman appear as if she were wearing a flesh-colored bowling ball mask. The eyes were deep-set and dark. It would have been a fairly comical look if not for the jaw. The jaw had widened and elongated, appearing like the Joker of Batman fame and a werewolf had mated. Jagged triangular teeth lined the gums three tiers deep, much like a shark’s.

  “Kill it! Kill it!” The words were as close to sounding insane as he’d ever heard, and he was extremely dismayed to discover they were coming from his mouth.

  Beth didn’t get quite as close this time, but she went for the head again. She drilled the woman-thing back to the floor with a single shot to the back of the skull.

  “The head,” she said shakily.

  “I know, I know.” Durgan felt like he needed to sit but more of the egg-headed monsters were outside. “What’s wrong with them? Are they aliens?”

  “I … I don’t know, but you need to shoot them in the head. That’s …” she swallowed hard, “that’s why they have this extra-thick bone; it’s for protection.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? We need to get out of here.”

  “Just shoot them in the head. There’s a reason they’re trying so hard to protect that part of themselves.”

  “Are … are they human?” he asked as he stepped over the body.

  “Don’t know, don’t care. You’re right, though; we have to leave. For now, I think it would be safe to call them zombies.”

  “I’ve watched The Walking Dead. I can assure you, these are not zombies.”

  “Yeah? Ask that poor slob they’re eating right now what he thinks about your attestation.”

  “Zombies they are,” he said as he cautiously opened the door. Three zombies were down by the office. A group of five was still hovering by the car and four were making their way to the duo. “They walk like they shit themselves.”

  “I can’t see how that would be their biggest problem. I wouldn’t imagine they even care.”

  “Let’s go.” He was getting impatient as she made her way to the passenger side. She’d no sooner shut her door when a zombie had slammed into Durgan’s side of the car. “Fuck!” he shrieked.

  “I don’t think even I could get my voice that high.”

  “Blow me.”

  She wanted to tell him that there was a good chance she had a bigger dick than he did, but she let it go. Truth be told, she was scared as well.

  “Where to?” he asked when he regained his composure.

  “Away from her, then we’ll figure it out.”

  “Good a plan as any.” He went to put the car in drive. When it didn’t move, he tried to muscle it in place. “It won’t fucking work … it won’t fucking work!” His eyes were wide. Beth watched in almost a slow-motion slide show as the zombie stepped back, leaned its head as far to the rear as it could, and then half-jumped, stepping forward while also throwing its head forward and into the glass of the driver’s side window. A giant crack starred out from the point of impact to the far corners.

  “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” Became Durgan’s mantra.

  “The keys, dipshit! The fucking keys! You don’t have them in the ignition!”

  It seemed to take forever for the synapses in his brain to put the pieces of information together in an intelligible way. He fumbled them out of his pocket, nearly dropping them on the floor. It was Beth who snatched them out of the air before that could happen. In one smooth motion, she fit the key in its hole.

  “Get us the fuck out of here,” she said as safety glass shattered inward.

  He ground the starter and revved the gas. Slamming the car into reverse, he pulled out, smashing into two … somethings. People, zombies, he didn’t give a shit; they were in the way. The zombie that had destroyed the window pivoted to watch them leave, and then started running in an attempt to catch them. His legs hit the rear bumper before Durgan could get the car into drive. Beth was looking through the rear windshield. The grotesquery of his head left little way to tell if he was dismayed at his quarry’s escape, but the set of his frame gave hint.

  “Is he following?” Durgan kept glancing up into the rearview mirror.

  “No.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “A little bit.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “I admit, I’m not much of a fan of the zombie genre. Seems to be a guy thing, I guess. But in the couple of movies I’ve ever seen, the zombies are mindle
ss, relentless pursuers of human brains. Am I right?”

  Durgan grunted an acknowledgement. “So?”

  “Well, he didn’t follow because he knew it would be useless.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “He thought it out. He knew it would be a waste of his time.”

  Durgan was silent before the dawn of knowing finally lit his brain. “Oh … they’re smart?”

  “I’m not sure ‘smart’ is the right answer. I mean, he did use his head to smash the window, but they think and that’s dangerous.”

  “I’m just glad we’re away from there.”

  Beth was not quite so convinced that was the end of their troubles. Gunfire raged at various points all around them. She’d seen at least four houses on fire. They’d passed a convenience store a couple of miles back. She’d almost told him to stop so she could loot some stuff with the rest of the burgeoning crowd, that was at least until a small group of five ‘headers’ crashed the party. They descended on the people going in and coming out of the store right at the doorway. The screams were momentarily overshadowed by the gunshots. When those fell silent, the screams took on a more desperate tone. Whoever could get away from the store did so. The Headers went inside, presumably to loot their own food stores of humans who were now housed within.

  Durgan had been looking past Beth at the same scene of carnage she had been before slowly pulling away. A group of teenagers had run from the place as well. The one in the lead, a well-built black youth, was constantly looking down to his right shoulder. He cradled his arm when he ran, which should have slowed him down considerably. He was either incredibly fast already or his friends were slow. Beth noticed a large dark spot on his shirt. Didn’t matter that she couldn’t see the color. It was safe enough to assume it was blood and he was in pain.

  She figured for a second that he’d been shot by an errant round. That false assumption was quickly proved wrong when he stumbled. Beth thought it was blood loss at first making him dizzy. She was now zero for two in guesses. On his second hesitating step, his friends were catching up. She could see them yelling at him to keep running as they constantly looked over their shoulders.

  The change was so sudden, she had to blink her eyes rapidly to make sure she was actually seeing what she was seeing. Her brain was having a difficult time reconciling the imagery as the young man’s head began to swell, his eyes getting lost in the deep well his cranium produced. He stood up, rigid as a board, then his jaw began to widen and expand. His mouth was pulled back like he was in the throes of a world-class scream, yet there was silence. Beth had a feeling if she were closer, she would be able to hear the breaking and knitting of bones as they conformed to this new structure. His skin took on the pallor of ash to complete the process.

  The transformation was incredibly quick. The first of his friends had grabbed his arm and was going to pull him along as he ran. That would be as far as he would ever get. The new zombie turned and bit deeply into his friend’s lips. A casual observer would think it was two lovers in the midst of a public display of affection. At least until the zombie pulled back, the lips of his partner firmly entrenched in his mouth. The lipless boy was screaming now, his other friend coming to his aid. He punched the zombie in the head; from the way he pulled his hand back and was gingerly protecting it, Beth figured he’d broken his knuckles in his failed and foolish attempt to save his friend.

  The zombie was completely enraptured in his newfound love as he dove back in, ripping an ear and most of his friend’s left cheek away as the latter turned, trying his best to get away. The zombie, along with a strong bone structure, seemed to have also gained enormous strength, as no matter how hard the boy getting eaten and his other friend beat at the zombie’s arms or tried to pull away, they were no match—though as humans, they had all been of fairly the same size.

  The zombie seemed oblivious at all the yelling and attempts to shake free, as he just kept dipping his ladle into the well. Except this well was full of tissue, muscle, fat, tendons, veins, organs, and bones. He happily crunched through it all. At some point, friend number two had seen the futileness of his attempts and had jettisoned for parts unknown. Now the sole survivor of his trio.

  “This isn’t happening, right?”

  “Now, I know with all that muscle that the odds of you graduating at the top of your class are pretty slim, but even you can’t deny what you’re actually seeing.”

  “Are you sure that we’re not just trapped on some movie set or something or maybe Middletown has some stupid holiday like Halloween before Halloween.”

  “Yeah, and those people being eaten are just giant meat-filled piñatas.”

  “Right.”

  “No, you dumb ass. The military virus is doing this shit and we need to get out of here. All the way out of here.”

  A collision of cars blocked the main exit out of town. That wouldn’t do, anyway, as it led straight to the military blockade.

  “Take a right.” Beth was looking over that way and it seemed to be the clearest avenue of escape.

  “I know what I’m doing,” he said as he took a hard left.

  “Asshole.” She gripped the dashboard in an effort to keep from falling into his lap. “I don’t like this; we’re in an alley.” Trash bins, pallets, and human detritus channeled the car in an ever-increasing chokehold.

  “It’s good, I’ll get us out of here.”

  “I can’t see anything in front of us, Durgan. I think it’s a dead end.”

  “It’s just dark out; we’ll be out of here in a sec.”

  “Stop and back up!” Beth was getting alarmed.

  “Can’t.”

  “Sure you can, that’s what the R on the drive column means.”

  “Take a peek.” He pointed his finger behind him.

  She turned. “Mother of God.”

  Like a concert that had just ended, concertgoers were spilling out onto the streets. But these weren’t happy-go-lucky slobs high on every imaginable drug and drunk on booze, life, and music. These were zombies looking for a meal, and that they were actively following the car did not bode well. Not at all. To bother following meant that they were under the impression they could catch.

  “Look for another way out. This is a dead end.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I might not, but they do.” As if her words were somehow prophetic, Durgan slammed on the brakes, his front bumper coming to rest gently against the brick wall that signified the end of the road.

  “Shit,” he said, grabbing his guns.

  “I told you right, you asshole.”

  “We’re not married; I don’t need to listen to you.”

  “Maybe not, but how has it worked out for you so far?” she asked as she grabbed her own weapons.

  “I don’t need this shit right now.”

  Too fucking late, she thought, keeping this to herself. She could easily win a pissing contest, but what was the point? They were effectively walled in on three sides, and the zombies became the fourth impenetrable barrier.

  “We have enough rounds?” she asked.

  “If we die I’ll say no.”

  Durgan climbed the hood of the car and got into the prone position on the roof. He started firing off shots almost immediately.

  “Fuck.” Beth was looking around for some alternate means of escape. Unless they became like Spider Man and could climb, they were rapidly running out of options. There were two fire escapes they could get to before they were overrun, but they were at least fifteen feet in the air. “Didn’t figure it would end like this.” She checked her pistol and waited a little while longer so she could get off some better-placed rounds.

  The zombies had picked up speed, running at a full tilt, arms pumping, and feet smacking loudly against the pavement, echoing heavily against the confining structures. The pounding in Beth’s chest was far louder than the war cry of the approaching enemy.

  “Reloading, Beth; now might be
a good time to start shooting.”

  The zombies had closed to within fifty feet. Her first shot shattered the breastplate of a small male zombie that looked like he’d just left his minimum-wage job at the local fast food joint, his white paper hat still sitting cockeyed on his head. Beth imagined he wore it like that all the time in an effort to simultaneously look cool and piss his pimply faced manager off. It might have half-worked because there was nothing anyone could do to make those hats look good.

  The fist-sized hole did little to deter Harry the Hamburger Slinger from his present course of action.

  “The head, Beth, the head,” she berated herself. Her second shot struck on the right of his forehead, digging a deep and wicked-looking groove through the heavy bone plating. It spun him around, yet not down. When he turned back, Beth drilled him flush in the eye socket, obliterating the dark orb that radiated out. “Three shots to kill one is not going to work.” She had time before the next zombie came into range. She opened up her cylinder and somehow calmly removed the three spent shells and replaced them before clicking it back into place.

  “My mother was right. I should have settled down and married someone.” She took another shot. This time her success rate was much better, although it would have been more difficult to miss from this range. “Not sure if Mike was the marrying kind though … I wonder.”

  “What the fuck are you babbling about? Just keep shooting.”

  “Just imagining a different life.”

  “Try holding on to this one for a little while longer, will you?”

  “Sound advice from you Durgan; who would have thought it possible.”

  “Fucking bitch.” His rifle roared in response along with him.

  They were holding their own, but it was only a matter of time. No matter how many zombies they took out, more seemed to replace them and still others were streaming into the alley. They only thing that was keeping them from already being eaten was the constriction of the alley itself.

  “Goddamn it. I should have went into the priesthood like I was going to.”

  “You?”