by Joseph Zuko
No, this time I’m truly fucked.
You kneed him in the balls. He’s not getting hard anytime soon.
His fingers still work!
Not if you break them!
My hands are taped behind my back. How can I fight?
Ryder dropped her to the ground without warning. The impact was jarring, and her skull crashed against the dirt. She saw stars.
When she regained control of her vision, Sara spotted the reason why he tossed her to the earth.
A set of zombies raced across the street toward them. They were in their mid-twenties and if they weren’t sick from this disease they would have made the perfect couple.
Ryder dug into his jacket and produced a pistol.
Sara drove her heels into the grass and squirmed along the ground to get some distance from the bastard.
Ryder aimed at the front runner and plugged the dead woman with a single well-placed shot right between the eyes. The body tumbled to the sidewalk. Ryder took the next shot as the infected man leapt over her tangled body and the bullet punctured its throat. The beast continued to advance.
Sara kicked at the restraints around her ankles. The tape wouldn’t give an inch.
Ryder spun the pistol on his finger and held it by the barrel. As the infected charged him, he caught the beast across the face with the butt of the gun. It didn’t give a shit about the crack to the noggin and plowed into Ryder, knocking him to the ground.
Sara reached the edge of the yard. The rough surface of the driveway scraped her elbows. It was as far as she could go without causing damage to her skin.
Ryder fought to get out from under the zombie’s relentless attack. He swung the pistol back and forth catching both sides of the monster’s face. Broken teeth fell from its snapping hole, but Ryder couldn’t land a kill shot.
A noise came from the house at Sara’s left. Something was banging against the living room windowpane. The glass shattered. A young boy fell through the opening and landed on the porch. The infected ten-year-old popped to its feet. Fresh slices from the smashed window covered its pale skin. A large triangular chunk of glass was wedged in one of its eye sockets. It charged down the steps to find Sara lying helpless like a worm on the street after a hard rain.
Sara screamed through her gag, pivoted on her back, and aimed her boots at the infected boy. She tucked both knees to her chest and right as it pounced she launched a double kick at its small torso and sent the little guy flying. It tumbled head over heels and spun out. A tick of a second later it was back on its feet and racing toward her.
Ryder got ahold of the infected man’s neck, gave it a yank as he twisted his body and reversed positions on it. From the corner of his eye he noticed his prize was in danger. Ryder flipped his pistol around and held it by the butt of the gun. He held the thrashing beast’s skull still and jabbed at its eye socket with the barrel of the pistol. He used both hands he pushed the gun farther into the monster’s face like he was dropping a detonator plunger on an old school blasting machine.
The zombie went limp.
Sara aimed her double kick higher this time and clocked the little bastard in the face. Driving the shard of glass deep into its tiny skull. The move seemed to do the trick. Its little body fell straight back and landed with a thud in the soft grass.
Ryder left the empty pistol in the beast’s skull and he slowly got to his feet. He appeared exhausted and weak until he locked eyes with Sara. The cocky demeanor returned as he sauntered across the yard to reclaim her.
“Look at you, Red. Even with your limbs taped up you’re still a dangerous little bitch. You know, I’ve been dreaming of this moment since you left me for dead on the side of the road.” His eyes went wild. “I could just eat up all that fear.” He moved closer to her.
She pivoted and aimed her boots at his legs and grunted, “Fuck you!” through her gag.
He smirked, “Maybe later.”
He was within striking distance and she lashed out at his knee. He saw it coming and dodged the kick.
“You better stop that. What if you broke my leg? You’d be a sitting duck out here in the open.” He tried to get close and again she kicked at him.
Hate and defiance burned from her gaze.
He wagged his sausage sized finger at her. “You’re only making this worse for yourself.”
Ryder stepped. She kicked. He anticipated it, hooked his hand around her ankles and spun her like a top. He crashed to the ground next to her and wrapped his fingers around her throat.
He squeezed. The man’s grip was punishing. It didn’t take long for Sara to run out of air.
Ryder pulled her in close to his face. His breath was rancid. Blood flicked from his lips as he talked and splattered in her face. “It’s just you and me out here, girly girl. You better start learning some respect.”
Her lids fluttered as her eyes rolled back into her skull. He released her neck right as she was about to pass out.
“We’ve gotta get indoors. Then the fun begins.” Ryder hooked his hands under her armpits and hoisted her into the air.
Sara’s brain was coming online when he lifted her onto his shoulder. He took off in a dead sprint.
She hated to admit it, but he was right. Sara caved under the bitter truth.
If I fight back and bust his knee or knock him out, I’m dead.
She didn’t squirm or wiggle. Fear he would drop her face first this time, kept her behavior in check.
Once we’re inside and out of the zombie’s reach, I’ll fight him with everything I’ve got. She tried to get her wrists moving, but Ryder wrapped them tight as hell and the circulation was getting cut off. Her fingertips were going numb.
Ryder huffed and puffed as he spoke. “You might not believe this, but you’re my first…” He gasped for air. “…kidnapping, I mean. I always wanted to…” He changed direction and headed across the street. “…the threat of prison made it too risky.” He couldn’t keep up this manic pace for long and switched to a jog. “There we go…” Ryder grunted, as he jumped the curb and raced along the sidewalk. “…that place looks promising.”
He got his feet turning faster.
“Oh, shit. We’ve got company.”
Sara twisted her neck and glimpsed a pack of infected chasing them down from behind. This time there were twelve hungry, soulless bastards giving hot pursuit. It was too many for one man to fight and keep her safe. Sara couldn’t believe it. She was rooting for Ryder to not die.
Ryder crossed the front yard of his target destination. The stairs slowed his progress to a crawl. The monsters were right behind them. Ryder crossed through the entrance and slammed the door shut behind him. He twisted the bolt lock into position.
Bodies launched at the door as fists pounded the exterior. Ryder took two large steps and dropped Sara on the couch. He barked in her face. “Stay!” Like she was a dog.
Sara could see why he picked this place. The previous occupants managed to block up the main windows into the living room with sheets of plywood.
Ryder moved quickly and jammed a chair under the doorknob.
Hands crashed against the siding. The infected weren’t giving up that easily.
Ryder heaved in clumps of air as he leaned against the wall. He clutched his side and wiped blood from his nose and cheek. He was losing a ton of fluid.
Good! Sara smirked on the other side of the duct tape.
The pounding at the door increased. The frame let out a massive crack.
“Damn it! I don’t think this shitty door will hold!”
Another loud crack ripped through the house. He scanned the room looking for something to block the entrance. “What, do these fucking yuppies only shop at Ikea?”
He charged to the rear of the house. Doors slammed. Drawers yanked open. Their contents tossed to the floor. Sara worked at her restraints. It might have only been a fraction of an inch, but the tape had loosened slightly.
The dead flung their bodies at the entrance.
Wood around the door’s frame splintered. It wouldn’t be long now.
Sara screamed through her gag.
Ryder charged back into the room with a large kitchen knife clutched in his fist.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Ryder grunted as his computer worked overtime to figure out this puzzle. Then the answer came to him. He grabbed Sara and hoisted her off the couch. He carried her like a baby down the hall until he stood in front of a door. He set Sara on her feet and opened the closet.
Sara shook her head and begged not to be put in the confined space. She was claustrophobic. If Sara had to move through a tight space that was fine, but being stuck in one spot for an extended period, would exceed her limit.
When she was seven-years-old a cousin of hers had locked her in a cabinet. It was pitch black. She couldn’t see her fingers in front of her face. She screamed and howled at the top of her lungs and no one came to her rescue. It seemed like hours. It might have only been fifteen minutes, but at that age it was impossible to tell how much time had passed. When her cousin finally opened the door, Sara was curled up into a ball and had peed her pants. Her Aunt and Uncle grounded the cousin for a month and Sara got a bowl of ice cream for her troubles. The trauma of the event stuck with her to this day.
The frame around the front door hemorrhaged. The trim snapped in two. The next hard blow would finish the job.
Ryder pushed Sara into the closet. Metal hangers jangled as he forced her to the back wall. “Stay quiet!”
Sara shook her head, eyes bulged as she pleaded for him not to shut the door. Ryder slid the knife into his belt and reached for the Berettas strapped to her shoulder harness. “I’ll take these.”
The front entrance smashed open as Ryder closed the closet door in Sara’s shaking face.
She was surrounded by darkness. Swallowed by the void. Her nostrils flared as she sucked in short breaths.
Outside, Ryder emptied one of the guns into the pack of scrambling zombies. He ran through the house and stormed the steps to the second floor. He yelled, “Suck my chubby dick!” and fired more shots at them.
Sloppy feet shuffled after him as they raced down the hall just outside her door.
Sara’s heartrate skyrocketed. Panic ate her alive.
What if that asshole dies and I’m stuck in here for days? She repeated this question to herself as she squirmed in the darkness.
I’m not seven anymore.
Nothing in this closet can hurt me. Sara talked herself from the ledge. This was the moment she was talking about. She had to stay focused and concentrate on escaping.
The one good thing about fear was it caused her to sweat and the perspiration on her limbs loosened the duct tape’s hold. She wiggled her arms back and forth. Little by little she worked more of her arms from the restraints.
Gunfire erupted upstairs followed by cursing. Heavy boots smashed from room to room.
She got her right arm free!
Pain coursed through her fingertips as circulation returned to her extremities.
The room was so small when she bent at her waist to reach her ankles her forehead crashed against the wall. Her clumsy fingers found the start of the tape and she unwound her legs.
Done!
She reached for the knob, twisted her wrist but the damn thing didn’t budge.
Ryder must have put a chair under the knob!
Damn it!
She peeled the tape off her lips. It was like getting a bikini wax on her face, yet, she didn’t make a peep.
A body slammed to the floor above her. Ryder cursed at one of the beasts. Not in pain, but out of anger. If Ryder somehow survived he was going to open the door in no time. She had to think up a plan fast. Her hands searched the space. Nothing but jackets, empty hangers, and some shoes on the floor.
An idea came to her. Sara grabbed a handful of metal hangers. Working completely blind she held them by the hooks, gripped at the center support and pulled. Sara turned the body of the hangers into a long handle. Upstairs a body went flying out a window and crash landed in the backyard. She picked up the duct tape and wrapped it around the newly formed handle. Ryder fired the last few shots until the pistol clicked empty. He screamed like a warrior. She found the length of tape that was wrapped around her legs and weaved it between each of the hooks. A body was tossed down the steps and smashed to the floor with a loud thud. Once she ran out of tape she bent each of the hooks and formed them into a large claw.
It wasn’t much of a weapon. At best she hoped to catch him off guard, get some distance from the jackass and make a run for it. She had no doubt that she could smoke Ryder in a foot race.
She steadied her breath and became silent. Out in the distance was a muffled groan. Slow steps worked their way down the stairwell. She held the claw with both hands. There was no space to get a proper swing. Sara staggered her stance and prayed she could land a solid kick to his groin.
Feet shuffled along the hall. Still unclear if it was Ryder or one of the zombie bastards outside. Sara knew who she was hoping for.
The zombie.
She was disappointed when the familiar voice of the sicko grunted, “Still in there, Red?” He let out a tired chuckle. “I tell you what. I’m great at two things in this world. Killing those freaks and fucking ladies. You’ll see the latter in a little.” He coughed a laugh and spit a wad of blood and saliva. “These Berettas are nice. If you don’t mind I’m going to hang on to them for a while.”
The legs of the chair chirped as they slid across the wood floor.
Sara psyched herself up for the fight.
Ryder’s hand rattled the knob. “You’re awfully quiet in there, Red. Are you plotting my death?” He shook the knob harder. “I’ve gotta tell ya, I’m one hard motherfucker to kill.”
Ryder wrenched open the door.
Chapter 6
Shawna was as exhilarated as if she guzzled ten cups of coffee. Riding high on adrenaline, she couldn’t believe her plan worked to perfection. The bus rumbled along the highway, gaining distance from her kidnappers. Shawna’s eyes flicked to the overhead mirror and gazed at the bounty of supplies she was hauling back to the church. It would help them survive for a little longer but didn’t come close to replacing the people lost on this disastrous rescue mission. Their job was to help bring Eric back to the church. They had failed miserably.
Shawna attempted to recall the order of events. She was sure Brother Paul would want to know what happened to his people.
The moments played in her mind like a closed-circuit video feed as she attempted to reassemble the afternoon. She approached the tale as if she was filling out an incident report for work.
Her group, led by Blaine and Dallas arrived at the location they believed Eric was being held. The place was surrounded by infected. They cleared the street to gain favor with the group inside the home. As they ventured onto the property, they came across their fallen brethren. Their bodies had been chopped into pieces and left by the front door.
Some disturbing evidence showed that their group had opened fire and wiped out an entire family. Women and children, all left for dead. After Shawna’s group entered the house her memory got cloudy. She didn’t see what happened in the bedroom. She only heard Dallas scream, ‘They killed Eric.’
According to Karen. (The leader of the other group) Dallas had killed someone named Frank and attempted to murder her husband, Jim.
(On a side note, this Karen, claimed her injures were cause by Eric when he attempted to rape her.) This was a tricky bit of info and Shawna wasn’t sure she wanted to mention it. After all, Paul just lost his brother, why add that disgusting detail.
What if it wasn’t true? Shawna asked herself.
Shawna counter pointed.
Karen was very convincing when she told her story.
Then Shawna came back with…
…but she was the one who killed Dallas!
Shawna decided she would figure out that chunk of the story later and returned to preppi
ng for her report. Once Dallas yelled that Eric was dead, all hell broke loose. Her recollection of what happened next came to her in tiny snippets of blood drenched chaos. It seemed like every gun in the house was going off at once. In the few seconds they were reloading their weapons, a man Shawna had never seen before appeared out of nowhere. He cut her group to pieces with a machete. She survived because she tossed her gun to the floor and screamed for mercy. Blaine managed to get off one last shot and killed the blade wielding maniac.
Losses on both sides.
Did it make them even?
Maybe? Confusion spread.
It didn’t feel even. She thought to herself.
The truth was difficult to find. Shawna was so deep in thought, time had jumped. She couldn’t tell how long she had been traveling. The road zipped by in a blur.
She snapped out of her haze and spotted a vehicle straddling both lanes of the highway.
This wasn’t the same road Leon took when we came into town. Shawna doubted her navigation as she slowed the rig. Thinking his name caused her mind to dance its way back to the bathroom where she retrieved the keys to this war rig.
Shame filled her heart. Yes, she wanted to escape and get back to her church. So, she attacked Leon and took the keys by force. That she could live with. It was what she said to him that cut her to the core.
I didn’t have to be such an asshole. Shawna’s high faded. Sure, Leon was a little weird, but that could have just been the extreme situation. The dead feeding on the living. Corpses everywhere. Kidnappings. Rape. It truly sounded like Hell on Earth.
How was anyone supposed to act normally? She asked herself.
He was already down, I didn’t need to call him a creep and kick him in the face. She grimaced.
Unlike some people that claimed to be a Christian but never followed the teachings a day in their life, Shawna strived to be kind to everyone and leave the world a better place than she found it. Considering the horrors and travesties she had seen in the past two days, it was a minor offence, but not one she would easily forgive herself for committing.
Valerie and Robin kept their bodies hidden under the bench seat in the middle of the bus. Eyes bright red and glassy.
