by Mark Tufo
I wanted to finish her off, but Jess was looking like she had lost her will to fight. She had the metal stick pressed up against the third zombie’s forehead and was merely trying to keep him at bay. I didn’t think her tactic was going to work.
I barked at her. “Swing!” I yelled over and over. She looked at me pleadingly for help. I barked again, she needed to kill it on her own or she would begin to doubt her ability to survive; next she would be fear urinating like Ben-Ben. This wasn’t a funny time, but it was a funny thought, and I planned on thinking about it later when we were safe.
“Riley!” Patches admonished me from behind the clear viewer. “She needs your help!”
“Then maybe you should get out here!” I yelled to the cat. She shut up after that.
I kept barking at Jess until something in her finally released; she let reason and higher thought go as she reached into the depths of her being and pulled out instinct. Survival took over. She realized this thing wanted to take what was most precious to us all: Life. She swung the stick much like I had seen on the picture viewer when Alpha watched a game he called baseball. The game made absolutely no sense, but the balls were delicious whenever I could get a hold of one.
When I was a puppy they had talked about sending me to puppy prison when I got a hold of one of the round, cow tasting things. He had kept screaming that a baby had signed it and that it was priceless. I still don’t know what ‘signing’ is, or who Baby Ruth was, but I sure was glad She-alpha had told him in no uncertain terms that I was staying and that maybe he should put things out of reach of puppies. Although, in all fairness, I had jumped up on his chair and onto his desk and pushed the clear viewer material out of the way so that I could get to it. Seemed like such a waste to have the fun ball under clear viewer material.
Her first hit seemed to stun the monster but did not put him down. The second one split through his hairline. Vile smelling liquid began to ooze down its side. Jess gagged, but she struck again. I watched as the side of the head where she hit indented, the oozing became a gushing. The thing wasn’t moving forward, but it still hadn’t gone down. I thought Jess was done…until she brought the stick one more time against it. This time his head seemed to swallow the stick, a wet sucking sound ensued as the thing fell. The stick was pulled violently from Jess’ hands. She let it go as she winced from the pain.
She was sobbing uncontrollably; much like she had been when she got off the plastic talking box at the house one time. She had told She-alpha that Bobby DiCarlo had broken up with her. I didn’t know how the plastic talking box knew, but that wasn’t important. I made sure that I was within petting distance for the next two days as she watered her eyes. There was a time and a place to be sad, this wasn’t one of them. There were no zombies around us right now, but they were nearby, I could smell them. And if more than seven came, we would be in trouble.
“Do you need my help?” Ben-Ben was barking from the clear viewer on our side.
The dog was so dense, I bet he didn’t even realize there was a way to get out and help. That was unfair, he had proved his reliability more than once; humans weren’t the only ones that suffered from stress.
“Just look for more of them,” I answered.
He seemed to like that answer.
I felt like I had to add this next part. “And let us know if you see any of them.” There was more than a fair chance he would spot some and leave it at that.
Jess thought my barks were for her, didn’t matter that they weren’t, it seemed to get her moving. She had been looking down at the zombie by her feet. I couldn’t tell if she was celebrating her victory, despairing in it, or just maybe trying to decide if she should pull her weapon free from its skull. She shuddered once and looked around at our surroundings. She immediately headed towards a wheeler that had its door open. It was the kind that the two-leggers that always wore the same fake skins drove. Always blue with a blue hat, some have a shiny hard piece over their breast, some don’t—like the one that used to come to my Alpha’s door almost every day.
I couldn’t stand him. Most days he would come up to the house. I could hear him moving around behind the door, and he would do something with the small paper holder that the Alphas called ‘male?’ (I never got any scent of male from it.) I would bark mercilessly until he would get scared and run away. Funny thing is, he would go to the next house and do it again, and they didn’t have a guard dog like me at all. He was just a scared man that threatened to go into homes uninvited. I would bark at him through the clear viewer on the side of the house until he would leave there, too. Even pressing my paws and face up against the viewer to let him know I meant business.
This wheeler had the funny bright lights on top. The uniformed people it held, I didn’t like them much either, but that wasn’t stopping Jess from reaching in. She pulled out a short metal object and a firing stick that looked a lot like the one her sire had used. She leaned back in.
“The keys are in it, Riley,” she said.
“Okay,” I answered. I wasn’t sure what she meant, and she had absolutely no clue what I had replied.
“Do you think there’s gas?” she asked me.
“Do you think cats are the root of all evil?” I asked back, neither of us had an answer for the other.
I whipped my head around at the shouting from Ben-Ben. “Rileeeeeeeeyyyy!”
If this was about finding him bacon I was going to nip him in the behind for almost scaring the waste out of me. I could quickly tell this wasn’t about food; that was more of a whine, this was a warning. I couldn’t see anything from where I was, but I could hear the shuffling of feet. I ran to the other side of the wheeler, the blue fake-skinned man was approaching, and he was huge. I couldn’t even imagine how he had fit in the two-wheeler to begin with.
He was holding a large, shiny stick in his hand. Although it didn’t really seem that he knew he had it, he was holding it out in front of him as he came at me. I barked at him, hoping it would stop his advance, it didn’t. I was longing for the days of the ‘door hider’ this blue fake skinner scared me like no other had. Flaps of skin dangled from the side of his face, I could see his teeth as they mashed together. Part of his top fake skin had been ripped off revealing a body that did not look like it had fared much better. Ribbons of meat hung from him almost to his knees.
Muscle and sinew glistened back at me, I tried to hold my ground, but every step he took, I found myself involuntarily backing up. Unlike the other zombies, this one seemed to have some spark of intelligence, like the cat. It watched me warily, almost willing me to attack. The ends of its ripped lips pulled up in what I had learned was the two-legger equivalent of a smile. On him, it looked like death. Its eyes followed me constantly until it caught sight of Jess, and the small smile pulled back even further to reveal blood-stained teeth with bits of meat stuck in between some of the larger gaps.
Jess was now in the wheeler and moving the seat when she caught sight of the aberration looking at her. The monster moved faster than I thought possible. Jess barely had time to shut her door, as it was; I think she caught the tips of its front paws. It didn’t seem to care; it brought up its stick hand. The wheeler started up with a throaty roar.
The zombie paused for a moment, almost like it was searching its inner picture thoughts for what it was trying to remember. Jess got the wheeler moving as the zombie brought its stick down heavily on the back of the vehicle.
I barked in happiness as Jess got away. That was a mistake as the beast turned towards me. It moaned some deathly mournful war cry, and the pursuit began. I had not realized how much my torn paw hurt until I started to run for my life. Bits of rock and dirt were getting into the wound and made running extremely painful. I was thankful that two-leggers were wholly unequipped for pursuit. It would give up soon when it got tired and realized it couldn’t catch me...ever. I ran around most of the entire fake grounds, further than I’d ever had to when Alpha or Alpha-cub were chasing me. But when one’s li
fe is on the line like now, it seemed wiser to run the extra distance.
I slowed up and was about to stop so that I could lick the debris clear from my wound when I heard him still coming. I had gained some distance on him from when we had initially started but that he was still this close was unsettling. I winced as I took a painful step and ran towards the grass hoping that the softer surface wouldn’t hurt as much. I made sure to stay as far away from Jess and Zach as she moved the baby over to the new wheeler. I noted that Patches immediately got in the new machine, but Ben-Ben wouldn’t as he watched me running for my life. He almost started running towards me until Jess picked him up and threw him into the wheeler.
I found myself running with only three legs, still faster than the dead two-legger…but not by much. And I was in pain and getting tired, the zombie seemed like he could do this for a full cycle of the burning disc. I was glad Jess had gotten away, and now it was time to fight or die. I stopped and turned to face my pursuer. The smile pulled so far back on his face that he literally split his lips. He raised the club as he advanced, this time he seemed to be reveling in the fact that he was coming slowly. I do not think it was hard for him to see that I was not faring well, my front paw was held up in front of me and I was panting heavily—partly from the pain and partly from the running. But he was truly insane if he thought I was just going to lie down and die for him.
I raised my hackles trying to look bigger; I got my front lower and bared my teeth. I rumbled a growl my ancestors would be proud of; then I heard the loud ‘goose’ sound the wheeler can make, this is usually followed by the Alpha shouting some colorful language and displaying one finger to other wheeler operators. I had, as of yet, been unable to figure out what that one finger meant, but it always seemed to make him mad or maybe it was the goose sound the wheeler made. I know I hated that sound. The zombie turned to the approaching wheeler. He seemed to be trying to figure out what to do.
Jess drove the car in between us. The window behind her was down. Ben-Ben was looking out at me, his tongue hanging out. “Hey, Riley!!!” he said loudly. “You coming in?”
“If you get out of the way,” I told him, preparing to scrabble up the side and through the window.
“Oh yeah,” he said, still not moving.
Time was running out, the zombie was coming around the car. Jess was fumbling with the small firing stick. Ben-Ben and I were about to get real close. I took a couple of steps and jumped up. I yelped as I grabbed the lip of the door with my front paws, my back legs were moving rapidly trying to seek purchase on anything in an effort to get me in the wheeler.
I yelped in surprise as I felt Ben-Ben’s teeth sink into the fur and skin on the side of my neck, and then I silently thanked him as I figured out what he was trying to do. The small dog was helping to pull me into the car. I was afraid that if I lost my grip we’d both go tumbling out. My right rear paw finally caught on the handle, and I was able to launch inside just as Jess got the wheeler moving. I was pushed in to the seat from the movement as Ben-Ben fell to the floor.
“Thank you, Ben-Ben,” I told the dog. I truly believe he tipped the scale in getting me in.
“You taste like chicken!” Ben-Ben said excitedly as he licked his maw.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I told him.
“Sorry,” Ben-Ben said as he hopped back up.
“For what?” I questioned him.
He looked down to the seat where I was getting my breath back; I now realized it was soaked. “It’s alright…this time,” I told him.
“You’re bleeding, dog.” Patches said, looking back at me from her lofty position in the front.
“I didn’t know you cared,” I told her.
“Suit yourself,” she said, looking back out the front clear viewer.
“That was close…too close,” Jess said. I saw her shiver a bit. She reached her hand back to seek comfort from our contact. I moved my muzzle closer so she could touch me.
Jess drove further. My paw would not stop bleeding as I tried my best to not get it all over the place. From time to time I would catch Jess looking in the reflector back at me. I guessed she was trying to figure out what I was doing. She finally got so curious she pulled the wheeler over to the side of the hard ground.
She swung her head into the back. “You’re bleeding, Riley. Are you hurt?”
I almost cracked up when Ben-Ben answered, and he hadn’t even meant to be funny. “Riley, if you’re bleeding aren’t you already hurt?” he asked me.
“Two-leggers don’t know everything,” I told him.
“Are you sure?” he asked conspiratorially. “I mean, they know how to make bacon. That makes them pretty close to perfect for me.”
I kind of had to agree with him on that one.
Jess had gotten out from her door and opened mine. “Oh, you poor girl,” she said as she lifted my paw. I thought she was going to touch my torn pad. I would have had to let her know what I felt about that if she had. “I need to wrap that up.” She looked up and down the road, when she was confident we were alone, she shut the wheeler down and grabbed the janglers. She opened the back of the machine. “There’s a first aid kit in here!” Jess said excitedly. “And food!”
Ben-Ben nearly stepped on me in his haste to get out of the car. “Sorry, Riley,” he said as he jumped down, “food is food!” He yipped more excitedly than Jess.
Even the cat seemed somewhat interested at the mention of food. Who would have thought evil had to eat?
“You did good,” Patches said as she brushed past and out to see if she could get a hold of something.
The cat’s words shouldn’t have mattered because of the constant disdain we felt for each other, but still I felt proud that she had even noticed, and then I was mad at myself because I had let her words affect me. Stupid cat.
Jess came back to me a moment later. She had a small packet in her hand and some bandages she called them. She grabbed my leg and lifted it up. “Ooh that looks like it hurts, girl,” she said as she brought the small packet closer to it.
Ben-Ben came up behind her. “Is that food, Riley? Why is she putting food on your paw?”
“It is medicine for Riley’s injury,” Patches explained.
I wanted to ask the cat if it hurt, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The sticky liquid she placed on my paw initially stung and then began to cool; I felt relief almost instantly from the pain.
“This will help, Riley, now I’m going to put a bandage on it. Don’t chew this off.” The bandage hurt some as she wrapped the wound and then she grabbed strips of sticky cloth and wrapped that around the bandage. “That ought to hold it in place,” Jess said, seemingly admiring her handiwork. “Thank you,” she said, grabbing the sides of my face and pulling herself close. She rested her forehead on mine. “You saved me again, girl. How will I ever be able to repay you?”
“You already have,” I told her as I licked her face.
“Gross, Riley!” she shouted, smiling for one of the first times in a while.
“Does she taste like chicken?” Ben-Ben asked as he danced around her feet. “I’m starving.”
“Okay, okay,” Jess said, going back to the end of the wheeler. “Wow there’s got to be over a dozen MREs back here. I know what these are from Mr. Talbot!” She said as she held one up.
I didn’t know what a dozen, or what an MRE was, but it was hard to not pick up on how excited Jess was about it.
A few moments later, when Jess had come back to the front of the wheeler and had ripped some packets open, we all got to find out what MREs were.
“What is this?” Ben-Ben asked in bliss. His face was covered in the substance, and he was doing his best to lick it all off of himself.
“Peanut butter,” Patches told him.
“This might be better than bacon!” he said as he brushed his face up against the seat back so that he could lick the peanut butter from the cloth.
I ate something Jess called ‘beef strogano
ff’ it wasn’t much better than the cat food I sometimes ate. Not because I liked the stuff, but so that Patches wouldn’t have anything to eat. Although the last time I had done that, she had eliminated water waste in my water bowl. Even after the Alpha-female had washed it out twice it was a week longer before I stopped smelling the cat in it. It was the last time I had eaten her bad food. This was alright, though, because the stuff made my stomach hurt anyway.
Jess was trying to give noodles to Zach, but he wasn’t touching them. His eyes were barely open and they seemed to be staring at something that wasn’t there. Even Ben-Ben knew the importance of what was happening. He was greedily eyeing the noodles that were dropping to the seat, but he stayed away.
“Why isn’t the cub eating?” he asked me.
“He’s sick,” I told him, looking at the baby.
“Very sick,” Patches added.
I wanted to pull her face off for her words, but she was right. Noodles were not going to fix whatever was wrong with the cub, and even Jess with her two-legger nose could smell trouble.
“I need to get him a doctor,” she said.
Jess got back into the front and got the wheeler going, Ben-Ben quickly began to clean up the backseat.
“Is that good, Ben-Ben?” I asked, not trying to be nice.
“Oh, it’s delicious,” he answered, his tail wagging like crazy.
I could feel heat radiating off the cub as Jess drove down the hard ground, I had no real concept for how fast we were moving, but if how quickly the scenery changed was any indication, then we were moving quickly…maybe even faster than I could run.
Jess kept looking back to see how her litter mate was doing. His cheeks at first had been blazing the color of a setting burning disc, and now they appeared whitish. I could smell death. Patches had the unfortunate ability to go one step further.
