by Joseph Zuko
The rain from earlier had left three inches of water in the trench. A wave splashed on both sides of the bike as he throttled the gas. The infected charged down the embankment. Busted arms reached and swatted the air, but he was too quick. A second later Ryder punched it and launched the bike back on to the highway. He screamed back at them. “You wish you could eat my ass!”
Ryder closed in on an intersection choked with wrecked vehicles. “No way that bus could have fit through here. They would have had to drive around and find a different route.” The smirk on his face grew. “I’ll find you, Red!” He brought the bike to a crawl and dodged the twisted burnt metal of the abandoned rides. He got within a foot of an SUV that appeared to have spun out, rolled three-sixty, and caught fire. A charred arm shot through a tiny gap in one of the collapsed widows. The limb was thick and belonged to a muscular man. Its skin was cracked and blistered. Hunks of exposed muscle reminded Ryder of delicious barbequed steak. It grabbed Ryder’s arm and yanked him toward the rig. If he was going any faster, it would have been a disastrous crash. Ryder lowered his feet to the ground, caught himself before he fell and ripped his arm from the crushing grip of the infected. The thing inside the wreck snapped its teeth at Ryder, but he was trapped behind the folded metal of the SUV. Ryder barked at him. “Get your hands off me, prick.” He looked the ghoul in the face and yelled. “Damn, son, you look like the Cryptkeeper!” Ryder hit the throttle and ripped out of the intersection.
He cruised down the highway, dodging zombies here and there, until he approached another intersection. Ryder read the upcoming street sign. “I’m close!” The anticipation was difficult to shake. He yearned to see the look on her face. “I’ll grab Red by the throat, squeeze and say, that’s right, I’m not dead yet bitch. I’m here to make good on my promise to fuck you inside out!” He belted out a laugh. “She’s gonna shit her pants!”
Ahead of him was a driveway that led to an open field. It headed in the direction he needed to go. “A shortcut.” Ryder pulled into the driveway and stood on the pegs, so the seat wouldn’t crash into his swollen balls. He zipped across the empty patch of wild grass.
This was the end of farmland and the start of suburbia in Battle Ground. As he approached the edge of the field, Ryder was forced to slow the bike. The ditch that separated the grass from the next street had a sharp drop-off and a much deeper trench. At high speeds he would have launched over the handlebars and crashed to his face. He inspected his options. At the far end of the property was a mound of dirt.
“Play it safe or be fuckin’ Evel Knievel?” Ryder already knew the answer. He snapped his wrist and the rear tire threw a rooster tail of dirt into the air. A few seconds later he skidded to a stop and checked the distance of the jump. “Hell yeah, baby. That’s child’s play.” Ryder rode back onto the field until there was enough room to hit the speed he needed to clear the jump.
He mashed the brake and the rear tire whipped around. He aimed at the mound, locked up the front tire and revved the engine. He let the rear tire spin.
Ryder released the brake and launched like a racer out of the gate. As he approached the ramp he sung to himself, “…cool rider a cool rider. If he’s cool enough, he can burn me through and through.”
He loaded the bike’s shocks as he crested the ramp, gunned it, and prayed to Satan. He sailed across the ditch and landed rear tire first. The bike got squirrelly on him once the front tire touched down, but he managed to right the beast before he lost control.
He whizzed across a front yard and angled for the alley that split the block in two. He yelled with excitement. “Ryder, you sexy son-of-a-bitch, is there nothing you can’t do!”
The zombie population grew the deeper into the neighborhood he traveled. The houses that lined the streets were busted open, with smashed windows and blood-stained entrances. Since the start of this crazy shit Ryder had stuck to the outer parts of Vancouver and not ventured into the city proper.
This was his first time really seeing the insane amount of damage the infected beasts could cause. It was pure chaos. Ryder wasn’t sure what to think. On one hand he loved the idea of roaming the wasteland of a forgotten civilization. Preying on the weak. Taking who and what he wanted, when he wanted. Not giving two shits about anyone but himself. Leaving a trail of broken bodies in his wake. That all sounded funner than hell. But on the other hand, this new infected world was quite dangerous and staying out of the hungry mouths of these sick bastards was going to be a much harder challenge than he could have ever imagined.
“They’re just fuckin’ everywhere!” Ryder yelled to himself as he zigged and zagged across a front yard. Every zombie he escaped added to the growing pack of beasts behind him. The street signs indicated he was blocks away from the target destination. He was so close, but if he stopped, they would swarm him. “Even with my badass skills I ain’t sure I can kill them all before one takes a nasty bite.”
Ryder conjured a plan. “I need to get some distance from these turds and cut off the engine, so they lose track of me!”
Straight ahead was a cement truck straddling the street. There were tight gaps between it and the surrounding cars. “If I can get them to funnel through those cars it will slow down most of these dicks.”
Ryder accelerated from the pack and held the high speed for as long as he could, crushed the brakes and passed through the opening with an inch of wiggle room to spare. Once he made the gap he ripped through the gears and sped away. Behind him the zombies fought against each other to get single file and continue their chase. The mass of dead bodies got hung up. Only a few zombies at a time could make it passed the cement truck.
Half a block away was a wide-open garage. The house had a tall fence that surrounded the backyard. As Ryder raced for the driveway he noticed another door at the rear of the garage that fed into the yard. “Perfect,” he said as he geared down. Ryder skidded to a stop once he crossed the entrance, tapped the button on the wall and the motorized door lowered behind him. Ryder killed the engine. He hopped off the bike and pushed it through the open door that lead to the backyard. Quietly he closed the second door behind him.
Ryder stood silent in the center of the freshly cut grass. The bike hissed lightly as the engine cooled. If his inner compass was right he was three blocks exactly from Desiree’s house.
He held his breath and listened. It was faint, but still there. The zombies made a shuffling sound as they milled around the streets. His little trick worked.
Ryder thought to himself. Those things are dumber than a box of used dildos.
Before he had a chance to get too full of himself, a loud ruckus began a few blocks away. Rifles were tearing through rounds at an incredible rate. The intense noise grabbed the attention of every freak in the area.
Ryder pushed his bike toward a gate in the fence that led to the alley behind the house. He dropped the kickstand on the bike. Ryder inched closer to the fence and gazed through a knot hole in a plank of wood. Tattered bodies jogged past. Soon Ryder was the only one left on his block.
He whispered, “That must be Red and her butthole friends.” Ryder popped the gate open and pushed his bike into the alley. “It won’t be much longer, and I’ll be tearing into her sweet-”
Ryder was cut off mid disgusting sentence when a zombie crashed into his back and tossed him to the ground. The beast clung onto both of Ryder’s arms and he fell face first to the gravel road.
Chapter 3
Ryder’s nose broke on impact. The bandage taped to his cheek peeled away. The lower half of his face was splashed with blood. Ryder didn’t have time to register pain. He was in a fight for his life. He rolled out from under the beast which appeared to be all teeth. The infected man was gangly and rail thin. It must have been six four and a hundred sixty pounds tops.
Ryder grabbed it by the throat, raising its snapping jaw away from his chest. It thrashed on top of him and squirmed to escape his grasp. Ryder’s fingertips searched for the hatchet on his belt. He p
opped the snap that held the flap to the harness shut. The thing lurched forward and put all its weight onto Ryder’s one arm. Ryder used its own leverage against it. He thrusted his hips into the air, to get the beast off balance, then pivoted his body and yanked its neck toward the ground. In a flash Ryder had reversed position on the bitch. His fingers dug deeper into the leather harness and pinched the blade. The zombie clawed at the sleeve of his jacket. Ryder’s fingers clutched the zombie’s neck, found a set of bite marks and wormed their way through its gray skin. Its wound gushed with gore. The creature managed to clutch Ryder’s collar and pull him closer to its jagged snapping mouth.
Ryder got his mitt around the head of the hatchet and yanked it from his sheath. He reset his grip and swung. The head of the small axe thwacked deep into the skull. Black blood spritzed Ryder’s face and torso. The body went limp.
Ryder straightened his spine and sucked in a short painful breath. He ran his hand across his face and surveyed the damage to his nose. The broken rib at his side flared in agony with every expansion of his chest.
“You sneaky little piece of shit.” Ryder spit blood into its face as he got to one knee.
In the distance, the gunfire which had gone quiet, started up again.
There was movement at the end of the alley. Three infected teens came racing around the corner, on a collision course with Ryder. “Fuck me!” He cursed.
Ryder reached for the hatchet’s handle, but the thing was wedged deep in the corpse’s skull.
Fight or flight?
Ryder had a choice and he needed to make it fast. Normally, he would love the chance to slap around a set of teens. God, he hated teenagers. Even when he was one, he despised them. But with a busted nose and rib, plus zero weapons, the choice was easy.
He let go of the hatchet and grabbed the bike’s handlebars. He lifted it off the ground, tossed his leg over as he started the engine, and gunned it. The beast’s fingers slapped at the back of his jacket as he rocketed away.
He headed in the direction of the gunfire. “If I get close enough, that noise should draw them away.” Ryder got half a block away from the teens and made a sharp turn and cut across a front yard. He stood on the pegs, so he could see above the fences that surrounded each of the properties he passed.
“There’s got to be a shed around here I can hide in.”
He found a little shack that was sitting four houses away.
The teens made the corner and were still in hot pursuit.
Ryder accelerated until he was in front of the house. Then he locked up both brakes and carved a groove through the green grass. The gate was open, and he ripped into the yard.
Ryder’s thumb rested on the off button when the gunfire died out. “Shit, there goes my distraction.” He had to think fast, otherwise he was about to be trapped in this yard with three teenaged zombies.
He tapped the throttle and whipped the back tire around. He aimed the bike at the open gate and revved the engine. Seconds later they came charging through the gate.
Ryder popped the clutch. As the bike raced toward the trio, he dove off and let the bike crash into the clamoring bodies. Ryder tucked and rolled. He popped to his feet and searched the yard for something to smash a skull.
The bike’s engine cut out and the zombies became a tangled mess on the ground. Their flesh sizzled against the hot tailpipe and blistering crankcase.
Dead center in the yard was a decorative birdbath. Ryder marched next to it and gripped the heavy stone basin. Water splashed to the grass as he lifted the disc shaped chunk. The first of the teens came at him like a drunk gorilla. Ryder swung the basin and caught the creep on top of its skull. The weight of the birdbath demolished its brains. The next contestant was right on the heels of its zombie brethren. Ryder swung up with the stone and clipped the bitch in the chin. Its teeth shattered on impact, neck twisted in the wrong direction. The hit sent the creature flying.
The last zombie sprinted hard for the big man. Its black eyes opened widely. Lips pulled tight. Red stained teeth. Fingers like talons.
At the last second it tripped on the leg of a fallen comrade. Ryder stepped to the side as it plummeted toward the remaining base of the birdbath that stuck perpendicular in the yard. It took the stone pillar right to its nose and half a tick later Ryder smashed the basin onto the back of its skull. A quart of slop oozed down the base.
Ryder stepped away from the carnage. The birdbath stayed up on its base but was now at an extreme angle. The skull and brains of the zombie was the mortar holding the two parts together.
“Bath time’s over.” There was no time to pat himself on the back. He had to get moving if he was going to snatch him a bitch.
Desiree’s home was a block away and whatever Red and her people had done, worked. The place was now clear of all infected. Ryder moved toward the bike, but hesitated. “They will hear me. I’ll have to go on foot. No way in hell I can ride and hang on to Red.”
Adrenaline coursed through his system. He was so juiced he swore he could take on the group with his bare hands. Then logic came to play, and he recalled how heavily armed Red’s jerk ass friends were.
Ryder got moving and cautiously stepped from the backyard.
I’ve got to sneak in there like a secret agent and abduct her with the least amount of people seeing. He thought. The truth was he wanted revenge on all the assholes inside the bus. Even the ones he didn’t get to meet.
He grumbled, “They all left me for dead.”
Logistically he knew that wasn’t going to be possible. There was no way in hell he could get the best of everyone without taking a shot. He had to settle on breaking their hearts by making off with their darling little Red.
He moved like a ninja across the last yard that separated him from the alley behind Desiree’s house. He came to a sudden stop when a shotgun blast rang out.
At first, he thought he’d been spotted, that it was a warning shot. It took him a moment to figure out it came from inside the house.
“Old Dad must not have made it.” Ryder giggled to himself as he stepped lightly across the gravel and dirt.
He inched closer to the fence and froze when the sliding glass door slung open and Desiree came out screaming. “That damn bastard! I can’t believe he got me!”
Ryder used the noise as camouflage and moved to a part of the fence that had a bush on the other side. He figured it would help keep him hidden until the right moment. He eased himself against the fence and leaned in until his sore nose touched the rough surface of the wood. Through a gap in the lengths of lumber, and in between the branches of the bush, he was able to see his prize.
There was Red, standing in front of Desiree. Worry spread across her beautiful face.
The Big Man with the shotgun came racing from the house.
Words were exchanged, but Ryder couldn’t hear from this distance.
Another woman emerged from the house. She had a smoking body for a woman in her thirties, but some asshole had beat her face to hell. She was followed by the other pussy from the Hockinson store. The lanky guy that flinched when Ryder faked a punch.
He could only catch snippets of Desiree’s pitiful rant at the end of her life. She carried on for a bit. Ryder rolled his eyes and hoped he wasn’t going to be a blubbering idiot when his time came. A woman handed her a gun, she put it to her head and bang.
Damn, this is better than TV. Ryder smirked. He loved being a peeping Tom. When he was a kid he would sneak around to his neighbor’s house and watch the lady of the house take showers. One amazing night Ryder caught the two of them on their anniversary. They got drunk and pounded on each other for an hour before they finally climaxed. Ryder was thirteen at the time and had never seen real sex before. At first it grossed him out, but the longer he watched the better it got.
The show he was watching now got a little boring for a moment as the group yakked about hitting the road or digging some graves. Yawn. They came to an agreement and everyone disappeared e
xcept for the woman with the busted face.
Ryder watched as she picked up a basket and headed to a tiny garden in the yard. She picked fruits and vegetables and each time she bent over her nice round mom ass pointed straight at him.
He whispered to himself. “I wish I had the strength to carry both.”
Big Man and Lanky came back with shovels in their hands.
More boring talk.
Ryder suffered from A.D.D. The thrill of getting his hands on Red was strong, but he was losing interest in all this dull, bury the dead nonsense.
There was more talking.
Then Red and another girl drug a bloody body filled blanket from the house.
Then more talking.
Another man Ryder had never seen before stepped from the house. This poor sap was beaten and covered in blood. He looked like he had been chewed up and spit out by a giant.
Ryder glanced at himself.
I look just as bad as that dude.
Christ, these people love to talk. Ryder was losing his mind. She was right there. He could almost smell her. Hell, he swore he could taste her, but he knew if he made a move with every one of those assholes standing in the backyard he wouldn’t get five feet before one of them gunned him down.
No prize.
No terror in her eyes.
No giving her what she has coming.
He had to wait.
Again, he prayed to Satan. Not really. He just liked to fuck around.
Dear Dark Lord, give me an opportunity to snatch that bitch and teach her a lesson. Give me the strength to smite my enemies. Grant me the power to blow loads into the faces of everyone who has wronged me. Allow me swift feet so I can race for the hills with the one that destroyed my balls. Hail Satan.
His prayers had been answered. It was just her and the Big Man digging the grave. Red turned on a hose and was taking a drink. Then the two love birds were having a water fight. It made what he was about to do even sweeter.
