Rotting Dead F*cks: An Extreme Novel of Horror, Sex, Gore and the Undead

by Matt Shaw

  “The supermarket.” I turned to address the whole room. The ones, at least, who would be able to get out of the window. “We need to go to the supermarket. Once there we can make the building secure. We’ll have safety. We’ll have food. It’s our best shot.” No one argued with me. Most weren’t even looking at me; the group was divided - some worried about the door holding out and some concerned about dropping from the second story of the building onto a pile of boxes as though they were meant to be pillows. I turned to Amy, aware that the door wasn’t going to hold the infected out forever, “You need to go.”

  Two of the men helped Amy out of the window. They took an arm each and held her as she backed out. The plan was simple; they’d lower her as much as they could and then - with a head’s up - they’d drop her the remaining distance. The size of the window didn’t allow them to lean out of the window together - not completely - but it was better than nothing.

  “Please don’t drop me!” Amy was whimpering as they lowered her from the window. I couldn’t watch. I turned back to the door as it continued to buckle and strain from the force exerted on the other side. I heard Amy suddenly scream and span back around to the window. The two men came back in - empty handed. I dashed across to the window and leaned out. Amy was on the floor. Boxes were crumpled around her but - other than that - she was safe and sound. She clambered to her feet and stumbled down the remaining boxes. “I’m okay,” she shouted. I grimaced as soon as the first words escaped her mouth. It was bad enough that she’d screamed on the way down but - to shout again - it did nothing but attract more attention.

  “Run!” I whispered down to her. “Meet at the supermarket!” She nodded and started off in the direction of the supermarket. It was a fair trek away, especially on foot, but if we were careful we’d all make it there. I looked around the street and noticed a lot of the infected had turned their attention to following Amy. She had a good head start so - chances are - she’d be fine as long as she was careful. It was funny but, for the first time ever, I actually felt as though I’d properly helped someone.

  A scream from behind made me spin on the spot. The door had fractured and both Darron and John had spilled into the room. They’d fallen on top of the two men who’d been propping the door up and were already biting and scratching at them. The man under John screamed out loud as John’s hands disappeared into the man’s stomach. By the time they came back from within the gut, they had handfuls and handfuls of intestine. Tina made a dash for the window.

  “Let me out!” she screamed. Without waiting for any help, or support, she clambered through the narrow gap and disappeared with a shriek. Unlike when Amy went through the window - TIna’s screaming continued long after she should have hit the cardboard boxes. I didn’t need to look. I already knew what it’d meant. Something had broken. The group backed up to the window. By now I was the closest so I wasted no time in scrambling through it myself. I looked down - a long way up - and saw Tina on the floor below. Her leg had twisted in the complete wrong direction. From this stance, I could see a bone fragment poking through her broken skin. Please God let me land safely. I closed my eyes and let go of the window ledge, plummeting to the floor below; the cardboard boxes in particular. The landing was painful but certainly not as painful as it could have been. I clawed my way out of the middle of the pile and landed next to where Tina was still screaming for someone to help her. I looked up, adrenaline surging through my veins, and immediately noticed the unwanted attention her cries for help had received. “Please!” she screamed at me, “Please help me!” I looked at her at disbelief. This woman - the one who set these events in motion - begging me for help as though she really believed I was going to risk my life to save her own miserable existence. Someone screamed from the window ledge. I looked up in time to see another of the smaller girls poking from out of the window. A pair of hands were wrapped around her face. Even from down here I heard the snap of her neck as the hands twisted her head the opposite way around. I closed my eyes at the repulsive sight. By the time I opened them - the woman was no longer in the window. I pulled myself up to my feet and went to make a run for the supermarket as agreed. Tina reached up and grabbed a hold of the trouser leg of my suit. “Please don’t leave me here!” More screams from beyond the window. No others will be following me out. At least - not alive.

  “Get off me!” I kicked her off with the heel of my shoe and made off in the same direction Amy had run. I surprised myself when I didn’t look back. Not even when her screaming went up a notch as - I presume - the infected reached where she was crippled. I know I’m supposed to help people in my profession but - as of right now - I’ve quit. Especially if they’re quick to stab me in the back.

  Amy

  Amy didn’t stop running despite every joint screaming for her to do so. Every time she looked behind her she was sure she could see more of the infected. They weren’t close enough to cause her any trouble but she knew - she knew - if she stopped for a moment, to catch her breath, they’d be on top of her ripping into her flesh with both teeth and nail.

  She turned a corner and felt her heart sink when she noticed the surging horde of infected pacing the roads before her. With still so far to go - to get to the supermarket - she couldn’t help but panic. What if she didn’t make it there? Or what if she did make it there but she was too late, despite the head-start? She’d get there only to find the place barricaded shut, with no way in, and still with the horde right on her tail.

  “Please, God, give me a break!” she whined despite knowing, God wasn’t listening anymore, if He ever had been paying attention in the first place. Just as she was mentally mapping out her route, the sound of a car horn alerted her. It came from behind her, from the hordes she was running from. She span around and felt a wave of relief rush through her at the sight of a large 4x4 speeding towards her - swerving erratically from side to side, hitting as many of the infected as humanly possible. The car horn sounded again as the car drove over the skull of a downed undead - spreading blackened brain over the tread of the tyre and grit of the concrete. Amy waved towards the car in an effort to flag it down. “Please! Over here!” she shouted. She didn’t care that her screams would attract any of the horde. She didn’t have to care - not with help speeding towards her. Speeding. Swerving. Amy’s eyes went wide when it dawned on her - the 4x4 wasn’t here to help her. It wasn’t there to help anyone. The driver merely out on a jolly jaunt to see how much trouble he could cause - how many infected he could kill. Before she could react - the front of the vehicle slammed into her. She managed to stay there for a moment, wide-eyed panic in her eyes and blood pouring from her mouth from damage sustained, but it wasn’t long before she slipped from the driver’s view. The 4x4’s suspension stopped the driver from feeling any hint of discomfort as it bounced over her body.

  As the vehicle pummelled into the next cluster of the infected, Amy opened her now-cloudy eyes. She didn’t get up. Her body was too broken. Instead she started clawing her way aimlessly across the road, groaning as she did, dragging her mangled legs behind her.

  Ted

  Absolutely-fucking-brilliant! I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched the truck mow the girl down. I mean - brilliant but also a damned shame because she was a tasty piece of gash right there. And to think here I was wondering whether I was alone in this shit-hole town and then - boom - two survivors within a couple of seconds of each other. One survivor now. Glad I hadn’t tried to wave them down, try and make friends with them just as I’d made friends with Harold. I stepped out from the shadows where I’d been watching the drama unfold, wondering how to get past the rotting dead fucks, and ran in the direction of the cul-de-sac just off the main road. Not so many R.D.Fs to worry about now, thanks to my friend in the truck. As I entered the cul-de-sac I couldn’t help but feel my spirits rise further. Some nice looking houses down this road which - I’m sure - will be filled with rich pickings. To think, I’ve lived in this area most of my life and yet I don’t think
I’ve ever been down this road before. Funny how things turn out.

  Nicola

  Nicola was sitting on the floor, next to the bed, huddled into a little ball. The knife was where her father had left it, on the side of the bed. The doll was where she’d dropped it when she went to give him a hug goodbye. She was still whimpering - not because she was scared of what was outside, that went without saying, but more so because she was worried about her dad. She got up and cautiously left the bedroom. She hesitated there, in the doorway, before she nervously made her way down the landing and towards the bedroom which overlooked the main room. The curtains were still shut (just as her father had left them). She hurried across the room and stopped by the curtain where she froze, her head tilted to the side from where she was straining to hear something (anything).

  Groans and gargled noises from, she guessed, down by the garage. Some kind of alarm was sounding off in the distance but she wasn't able to say whether it was a car or house alarm. Maybe even a shop alarm. Something thudded from somewhere downstairs and she jumped. She twisted herself towards the door - nervous that someone was about to burst in. No one came. She paused. No further thuds or bangs. No one there. No one coming. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the curtain. She desperately wanted to see if she could see her dad out there. If only a glimpse of him. Something just to let her know that he was out there and - more to the point - that he was okay. Nervously she reached out with her hand and pulled back the curtain. Not a lot - just enough to see out of.

  She peeped out. Across the road, at the house opposite, she noticed a large swarm of the undead crowding around the front door. There was a car, on the driveway of the same house, with the alarm ringing out as though it had been disturbed. Headlights flashing to warn people someone had been interfering with it - on the off-chance on one heard the alarm. Despite the number of undead clawing at the (closed) front door the house - Nicola felt a wave of relief. She knew there was a good chance the noise, and general disturbance, was down to her father.

  Michael

  I fell back against the wall once the security chain was fastened on the front door. Out of breath. I couldn’t help but thank God for ensuring the door had been open. Had it not been I would have been dead. I can’t believe how quickly I was surrounded out there. One minute everything had been relatively clear - I had tried the car door setting the alarm went off - and next thing they were all on top of me. I only hope the keys are in here somewhere. I heard the infected scrambling at the front door. I also hoped there was a back door out of here and that it is clear from any of the undead. Jesus. I can’t believe how quickly those things were there. Watching them, from a distance, and they’re deceptively slow but - yeah - I won’t be under estimating…I froze as something smashed in the next room down the hallway. Oh shit.

  Nicola

  Nicola couldn’t take her eyes away from the front door across the road. Her heart was in the back of her throat as she desperately waited to see some sign of her dad there. Quickly she cast her eyes from window to window of the property in the hope of seeing him standing there - perhaps looking to see if he could spot a way out and back to the car. She knew there was no way he’d get to the car. Not with all of them crowding the front of the house. No clear path. It was too dangerous. She paused a moment, her young mind frantically trying to think of a way to help her father. And then it struck her. She needed to create a diversion - something to turn their attention away from where he was hiding, something to give him the necessary space to get to the car before coming back to get her.

  Ted

  I landed hard on my arse as the fence gave way under my weight. How embarrassing. Thankfully there didn’t seem to be anyone around to spot my little accident. Fucking gate was locked so it wasn’t as though I had had much of a choice. I wasn’t doing it to appear macho or try and be the Action Man. I was climbing the fence as I figured it would be easier to go from garden to garden as opposed to running down the street - out in the open. I sat up and realised I wasn’t alone. A garden full of rotting dead fucks. Brilliant. Perhaps the road would have been a fuck sight easier. I quickly scrambled to my feet and scanned the area to try and determine the best direction to make a run for it. Don’t really want to go back. Back is never good. Always need to push forward. That’s my motto in life. Don’t look back. Just move forward. Make a decision and stick with it. Too many fuckers out there pick and choose what they want only to change their…Oh hello. In scanning the immediate area I noticed a nice looking machete sticking out of ground. I couldn’t help but smile. Bad-ass.

  Without hesitation I scrambled towards it (more or less on all fours) and pulled it from the damp mud. In the nick of time too as one of the rotting dead fucks dared to make a move for me with a sudden lunge. With perfect precision I made sure it would never lunge again as the tip of the machete blade went through its mushy skull. One final groan from it. Fucking sweet. I should have found me one of these ages ago. I ripped the blade from the fucker’s head and it dropped to the floor completely lifeless - and still which was a bonus. No need to run with this little weapon. At least not when there’s not too many of the R.D.Fs to contend with. Might as well get some practice in for when the going gets really tough.

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I squared up to the next rotting fuck who dared approach me. Bring it, bitch. Feeling a little more confident I span on the spot with my arm outstretched. The blade of the machete a mere extension of my hand. With a perfect aim the sharp blade connected with the head of the R.D.F and sliced through it as though it were hot knife through butter. The head flew from the shoulders, spinning through the air and spraying blood all over the show. It landed on the floor. Rude not to go for the touchdown. I charged the still chomping head and gave it the mightiest toe punt I could muster. Hurt my toe in the process but totally worth it as the fucking thing easily cleared the fence. I heard it land with a thud as I turned my attention to the next target. I couldn’t help but think back to the news reports - not one of them mentioned the perks of having a machete. Had they done so, perhaps there’d be more people fighting alongside me? I swung the blade at the next reachable neck.

  Michael

  I slowly walked down the hallway. I held the knife close to my side, ready to lunge at whatever was in the other room. I hoped it was the sound of a person hiding from me. Maybe even a cat knocking something down? Whatever it was - I just preyed it wasn’t one of the infected. At the doorway now and I slowly peered around the corner, into the room. My heart skipped a beat when I saw one of the infected standing there, in the opposite corner of the room, with its back to me. It hadn’t heard me - thank God. It was just standing there, the occasional gargled noise gasping from its mouth. The stench in the room nearly made me gag but I managed to hold it together. Can’t go making a sound. Not when it is so close and I’m limited with places I can run to. I need to catch it by surprise to take it down. One of them, by themselves, probably wouldn’t cause me too many problems if it did suddenly turn but it wasn’t something I wanted to risk - not with my daughter across the road waiting for me to take her to safety. Slowly I made my way across the room towards where it was standing. I raised the tip of the knife towards the back of its head. Need to thrust forward hard and fast - enough pressure to get through the skull and into the brain. I was within an arm’s length now. That stench - something I’d never be able to forget no matter how much I wanted to. I wanted to close my eyes for what I was to do but I couldn’t. I needed to be sure I hit the right spot. I needed to be sure I was going to kill it.

  “God forgive me,” I muttered. The sound of my voice alerted the infected to my presence but it didn’t matter now. It was too late. I thrust forward before it had even half turned to face me and grimaced as the knife went through the skull. The tip poked out of the other side. The infected, a woman, gave a final snarl before she fell silent. Definitely dead. I pulled the knife back and the body slumped to its knees before falling forward - face f
irst through a glass coffee table. With the danger out of the way, the smell hit me hard and I gagged. A second later and I threw up onto the floor, next to the dead body. Stop it. Get a grip. I wiped the puke from the sides of my mouth and spat the remnants onto the floor. Need to get up. Need to be sure there aren’t any more of them in the house and then I need to find the keys. Please God let them be in here somewhere. And if you’re really listening - please let them be in an obvious place.

  Nicola

  Nicola opened the curtain letting the daylight spill into the room in the process. She squinted from the sudden brightness but soon shook it off. The view outside, in the main road, terrified her but she knew she couldn’t ignore it. She needed to get the attention away from where her father was holed-up. The sooner she made it clear for him, the sooner he’d be able to come and collect her. Where other children her age may have hesitated to do anything, Nicola showed no such hesitation as she opened the window. Her plan as simple as it could have been; make enough noise to ensure the infected heard her. She leaned out of the window and hoped that her dad was ready to come home.

  Ted

  I was covered head to foot in blood by the time I had worked my way through the garden. I peeked over the next fence when I realised I could hear the sound of groans coming from beyond. Shit loads of RDFs. What is it with these fucks and their garden parties? Might actually be easier going down the front way so I made my way round to the front of the house via a narrow side alley. I didn’t charge out into the open. Not that fucking stupid despite what people have told me before. Wonder where they are now. Probably dead. Hopefully dead. Cunts. Immediately to my right I noticed a fuck load of Rotting Dead Fucks banging and scrabbling to get into a garage. Wonder what’s got their attention? The sound of a girl screaming made me jump (and the RDFs stop what they were doing). I looked up and saw a young girl leaning from the upstairs window of the house. The RDFs noticed her too and staggered their way to the front door. Worse than that - for the girl - I noticed another group of RDFs across the road turn around to see what the commotion was. Time for Ted to play the Samaritan…