Downfall

by Michael S. Gardner

  “What the fuck?” Clarence shrieked.

  Cole came running. Clarence was in too much pain to hear the footfalls behind him. With a loud thwack, the lead thug fell to the ground unconscious.

  “Dumbass was gonna get the attention of every zombie in the fucking area.” Cole hovered over the man’s motionless form.

  “Wouldn’t you?” Matt said, looking down.

  The long-haired man had the slightest look of confusion in his eyes before his head had smacked the pavement, and Matt reveled at the thought as Cole looked over his handiwork.

  Leroy was still crying like a bitch, nowhere near his weapon. Who wouldn’t ball their eyes out after having his dick shot off? He said something, but to Matt it sounded like a jumble of wet and sloppy grunting.

  “Does it hurt?” Cole said, walking over and pulling out his pistol.

  “Fuck you, you fucking cracker-ass bitch.” Leroy was drooling, and his saliva had a pink tinge to it as it pooled on the ground. “I’m gonna fuckin’—”

  “Do what, Leroy?” Matt came up and kicked him in the ribs, but Leroy was such a large man compared to him, and Matt’s face contorted into a slight grimace as he felt his toes throb after the impact. He’d probably hurt himself more than he’d hurt Leroy, but it felt good to release the anger. “What are you gonna do to us?”

  Leroy smiled a crazed man’s smile. “I’m… gonna kill you, then… your fuckin’ family, bitch.”

  “Well let me help you find them.” Without any further warning, Cole fired one round into the man’s skull. His face fell in the puddle of drool and blood, body motionless.

  “Good shot.”

  “Hey,” said the soldier behind them, “wanna untie us now?”

  “Depends.” Matt turned toward them, eyeing the sides of the road, the alleys between houses.

  The man had on digi-camo pants and a stained light green shirt. His arms were bound behind him, as were those of the other two, who looked on with curious and frightened stares. “On what?” the soldier asked.

  “On if any of you were bitten or scratched,” Matt answered.

  “I haven’t been bitten,” the woman said.

  “We’re fine,” the scientist said. “We’re all fine. Now will you just untie us, dammit? Before our friend over there wakes up?”

  Smiling, Matt said, “He’s no threat.”

  “Are you?” The soldier had a glint of uncertainty in his eye.

  “We’re no threats,” Cole said, catching up with Matt. “Well, unless you ask Leroy or Clarence.” He started untying the prisoners as Matt kept guard, his pistol ready at a moment’s notice.

  “You know them?” the woman said.

  Cole shook his head. “Heard them on our radios.”

  “We were on a foraging mission when Cole over there heard them.”

  “Then what?” The woman said, half laughing. “You two just decided to save us?”

  Matt held up a hand. “Geez. Don’t go all ‘I’m so happy you rescued us’ on us now.”

  “Sorry. It’s just that you don’t see much of that these days,” the woman said.

  “You can say that again,” the soldier agreed.

  Each of the survivors unbound, they rubbed their wrists.

  “I’m Jeff Sullivan.” The soldier cracked his back and stretched his legs, eyeing the surrounding area. Matt noticed a scar on the right side of his shaven head.

  “Angela.” The woman blew out a breath, setting hands on hips, a relieved look on her face.

  “Dr. Timothy Grant,” the scientist said shortly, a hint of disdain in his voice.

  “I’m Matt Ryland.” He pointed to himself then his friend. “This here’s my little sister, Cole Grayson.”

  “Funny,” Cole said with a fake laugh, then turned back to the others. “How’d they get you?”

  “We were all staying at the gas station up past Denbigh,” Angela said, cringing at the thought. “They came in the morning, when it was still dark outside.”

  “Today?” Matt inquired.

  Angela nodded.

  A sense of relief came over Matt, knowing that these three hadn’t been captive for long.

  Angela continued as Tim glanced all around in the background. “There were six of us. William and Harry were shot in the initial attack. Those bastards raped Carrie right in front of us.” She spat in the Latino’s direction and pointed toward Leroy. “Then they choked her to death.”

  “Well,” Tim said, “they sure got what they had coming.” He looked around some more, pushed his glasses as far up as they would go, and said, “We’ll get what we have coming to us, too, if we don’t get out of here soon. All that gunfire is sure to garner unwanted attention.”

  “Doc’s right,” Cole said.

  “Where were you three headed?” Matt asked, holstering his pistol.

  “Anywhere but here,” Angela said, forcing a bitter laugh.

  “Well, we still have some supplies to acquire.” Cole left the rest unsaid.

  “You guys have a place to stay?” said Jeff.

  “Yep. I think the vacancy sign’s still on,” Matt replied. “That is, if you’re not the funny type.”

  “The funny type?” Angela looked confused.

  “You know,” Matt pointed to Clarence, “the funny type.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about us,” Angela said with a grim chortle. “But there are others like them out here that you do need to worry ‘bout. Them sick fucks are shacking up in the church just up the street, probably waiting for some other folks to stumble across them. If they’re anything like these pricks, they’ll do much more than kill us.”

  Cole stole a glance at Clarence and looked back to the others. “Well, our place is plenty far from here. Never shit where you eat, you know?”

  “So then it’s settled,” Dr. Grant said forcefully. “We’ll stay with you for a few days… then Mr. Sullivan and I will continue down to North Carolina and be out of your hair.” He took another scan of the area until locking eyes with something. “Until then, can we get out of here?” He pointed to a yard just up the street, where three creepers shambled with purpose.

  “Yeah,” Matt said. “Just need to get the rest of my supplies from that house.”

  He retrieved the backpack, stuffed the radio in, and grabbed his sword. Upon returning to the others, he saw Cole fiddling with Clarence’s AK-47. Jeff had one, and Angela was sizing one up herself. Doc Grant backed away, then spun around, only to repeat the process again.

  Matt picked up the remaining assault rifle and re-familiarized himself with the model. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a splotch of blood on the thing. “I sure wish we had more of these.” He glanced to his friend with a grin. “We’d be practically untouchable, Cole.”

  “You know,” Jeff said tentatively, eyes darting between his saviors, “I know we’ve just met and all, but I’d like to throw something out there. If you two could dispose of these assholes as easily as you did, I’m sure that we could take out the ones in the church. Bait them out like they did us, and kill them all.” Cracking his knuckles, he continued. “We’d be doing the world a favor, not to mention staving off future altercations… and you’d get your guns. Everyone benefits.”

  “That’s a mighty risky proposition, soldier,” Cole said, staring at the sun’s position in the sky. “But,” he turned to Matt, “we do need more ammunition. I know the church they’re talking about. There might be a good amount of supplies out there.”

  “That’s why you didn’t want to kill Clarence.” Matt looked to the new recruits. Jeff and Angela nodded emphatically. Tim looked like he was calculating. He wasn’t in this world at the moment, or at least not paying mind to the conversation. Then the thought of what could be gained from this proposed assault returned. The mysteries of the scientist would have to wait; there were pieces of shit to flush.

  “Fuck it,” Matt said. “We’ll leave it up to what dipshit over there has to say.” He hooked a thumb at Clarence. “I
f it sounds impossible, we’ll hold off, strategize. If it’s plausible, then why not?”

  “Sounds good.” Angela turned toward Clarence. Jeff did as well.

  “Are we going to do something about those… things?” Tim was displeased and not afraid to show it. Irritation was written all over his face. He was probably used to getting his way.

  That kind of guy, Matt thought.

  “We’ll take care of them,” Cole said. “Don’t worry.”

  All eyes turned to Clarence.

  CHAPTER 14

  Some say that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Well, whoever said that hadn’t made mention of the dry, cracked substance that lay beneath the pavement. The stuff that was pure evil. Clarence Teakes was its very embodiment. The deaths of many men and women, and even more children, were but a few notches on the man’s belt. You name it, and he had probably done it once or twice, at least.

  And it had all finally caught up to him…

  “Wake up, you piece of shit,” came an unfamiliar voice.

  Unconsciousness faded into a sudden burst of pain—the worst pain Clarence had felt in his entire life. His eyes opened to an unforgiving reality. That bitch karma ruled this world, and now she was gunning for him.

  My arm!

  Oh God, the pain; it started there and made its way throughout his entire body, and as the moments passed, it only intensified. It was nightmare brought to life, like waking to a fully numb limb, scared you’ll never use it again. Only Clarence truly wouldn’t, judging by the way the lower extremity hung limp. One of these fucks in front of him had taken that freedom, he was sure.

  “What the fuck did you do to me?” he screamed, flecks of spittle dropping just short of his tormentor’s feet. He tried lifting his arm, but could only raise the upper portion. The bullet had destroyed his elbow from back to front; the flesh around the wound bloomed outward with tendrils of dangling tissue flapping like the slimy limbs of an octopus.

  “There’s no time for that, Clarence,” the one with the ponytail said. Oh, Clarence did not like the way the man was smiling at him. Not one bit. He gritted his teeth.

  How did they know his name? Did Persius send him? G, maybe?

  “We need to know about the church,” Ponytail said, his finger rubbing the trigger of an AK-47.

  “What church?” Clarence did his best not to flinch or show signs of the pain coursing through his body, but doubted he hid it well. He looked again at his ravaged arm. It sagged pathetically, his forearm hanging on by what muscle remained and whatever bone wasn’t shattered.

  The man to his right, some chump with a ragged hat who hadn’t shaved in quite some time, pistol-whipped him. The blow loosened a few teeth. The soldier and the Nubian princess were smirking, holding his own assault rifles on him. And then he saw Leroy’s body. Clarence had seen his friend go down, but now it was clear: Leroy wasn’t getting up.

  “All right,” Clarence finally said. “You wanna take out Persius, fine. You let me go, and I’ll tell you everything you wanna know. But if you’re going for the drugs,” he looked to the soldier, “ask your new friends; they’ll tell ya there ain’t no more left. G stole the stash.”

  Mr. Ponytail laughed.

  “We don’t want your drugs. We just want the guns. You can go free once you tell us how many people are in the church and what kind of fight we should be expecting.”

  The pain was ebbing; Clarence was going into shock. With this numbing came the familiar stench of the dead. They were nearby, and he cast his eyes side to side in search of them before returning his glare to the two in front of him.

  “It’s only Persius and his son and two others. They’ve got guns out the ass, and his son is pretty good with a rifle.” He eyed the gun slung around the shoulder of the prick to the right.

  “We need details,” the soldier said, coming between the two, grabbing Clarence by the throat and choking him. The Nubian princess came closer, giving him close-up view of the assault rifle. “Tell us when they eat, when they sleep, where they shit.”

  Mr. Ponytail suddenly stood, darting out of sight.

  “All right,” Clarence said between labored breaths. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  He did. And they would all die.

  CHAPTER 15

  “So you’ll let me go?” Clarence asked. His voice trembled, but his eyes spoke the truth.

  This man would have to die, Matt knew. People like him couldn’t be allowed to carry on, not in a world like this. He was more a monster than any zombie. They had all the information they’d requested; it was time to let Clarence “go.”

  “You’re free to get on,” Matt said, shooing the man a grin.

  Clarence looked to Jeff and Angela with an expression nothing short of evil. His skin was slightly paler than when he’d first awoken. He’d soon bleed out, but that wasn’t enough.

  The survivors, led by Angela, made for the church. Matt could hear the man attempting to right himself. In his current state, it was understandable he’d be clumsy.

  “Oh,” Angela said.

  Matt turned around with her. Clarence staggered, unaware of the goings-on directly behind him.

  “One thing.”

  “What’s that?” Clarence said with a groan.

  Angela raised her weapon. “Fuck you.”

  Clarence’s eyes went wide as Angela aimed. She squeezed the trigger twice. One for each leg. He fell forward on his stomach with a yelp. Pulling himself up with his good arm, he rolled over to his back.

  “You fucking cunt!”

  “Say that to my three friends.” She pointed to the encroaching zombies behind him and left with the others.

  “Wait…” Clarence finally positioned himself so that he could see the creepers slowly advancing on him. “Wait… I don’t—” He screamed, and that was that.

  Matt stayed back and took in the sight of the three zombies digging into Clarence’s stomach, biting off his fingers and ears, and finally gouging into the meat of his throat. As soon as the bastard stopped moving, screaming, and reaching for help, Matt dispatched the creepers and put a bullet in Clarence’s right eye.

  ***

  Grafton Baptist Church was an old brick building with a nearby recreation hall that had been built some years after the initial construction. The road leading to the church ran between a gas station and a bank, and went on until it met with Denbigh Boulevard (a direct route that led to Matt’s and Cole’s hometown of Newport News). To the right, in front of the church, was a field that eventually led down to a small mom-and-pop diner Matt had visited once or twice.

  The group stood in an empty parking lot across the street from the bank and gas station. There were no zombies in sight. Countless corpses lay strewn about the street, none so much as twitched. Only one side of the church could be seen from here. Matt handed the binoculars over to Jeff.

  “Well,” Jeff said, “there’s a dump truck a little to the right. The driver’s dead, or looks that way. It looks like a good vantage point for a sniper.”

  “That’s me,” Cole said. “Matt’s a horrible shot.”

  “He’s got a point,” Matt agreed.

  “You can lock yourself in there,” Jeff continued. “If things get bad out here, you might not know that you’re being surrounded.”

  Cole nodded.

  “You’ll take Dr. Grant here with you.” Jeff pointed to the short, gray-haired scientist with the attitude of an underpaid and underappreciated schoolteacher. “We need him alive.”

  Matt made it a point to find out why Jeff had stressed the word need if they made it out of this.

  “I’m not much with a firearm, you see,” Tim offered, lifting up his shaky hands.

  “I can vouch for that,” Angela agreed.

  Jeff looked to Matt. “It looks clear over there by the gas station. We’ll have you take the building from the rear, sneaking around the pumps.” He turned to Angela. “You’ll be our bait.”

  “What?” H
er voice damn near echoed too loudly.

  “Calm down,” Jeff said earnestly.

  “Uh-uh.” Her eyes were locked on the soldier’s. “You’re crazy. Them boys would wanna rape me like they did Carrie.”

  “Exactly,” Jeff said as he put a hand on her shoulder and pointed to the Beretta Matt had given her. “All you need to do is walk out there and wait for the lead man to be picked off. By then, we’ll all be firing at them. They’ll be too worried about what they don’t see to watch you run back to the front of the bank and get this AK-47 that I’m gonna put on the front porch.” He looked back to Cole. “You’re our point man, Cole. May your shots hold true.”

  Angela balled her fists. “I still don’t like the idea of being bait.”

  “I’m not so sure I like this either.” Matt’s heart skipped a beat. His stomach was light and full at the same time, like he wanted puke and the only thing that would come up would be an organ. This was a strange feeling; maybe battle-weariness, though he couldn’t be sure. “I know that bastard was lying to us about how many are in there.”

  “Man,” Cole said, “you heard what that asshole said to Clarence on the radio. He treated him like a piece of shit. He probably wanted to see that prick and his friends die.”

  “Probably wanted to see us all die, Cole.”

  “Well, it’s too late now,” Jeff said. “We’re here, and we could all use what they have inside. I’ve run drills similar to this before. Remember,” Jeff looked right at Matt, “we’re not going up against battle-hardened warriors; we’re going up against drug addicts, dealers, the fucking scum of the earth.”

  “Yeah, well they’re killers too.” Angela said. “Don’t forget that.”