Zac Zombie 3: Night of the Undead

by Eduard Joseph

CHAPTER 6

  We walked swiftly down the street to try and get as much distance between us and the cemetery gates. Sooner or later another bony zombie might figure out how to open the gates. It was the first time I noticed how bright the moon actually was that night; it was like a midnight sun.

  “What time is it?” Henry moaned, “I’m exhausted.”

  He was exhausted? I haven’t had a good night’s rest in days.

  “The sunrise can’t come any sooner.” Fred said in despair, “I don’t know whether the undead have night vision or something, but I can’t fight them off in the dark anymore.”

  Dharma was still clinging onto her father as we strode down the street. My eyes searched our surroundings for any vehicle we might find along the way, but as luck would have it the streets were empty. I spotted a small group of zombies a few blocks down and I motioned for my companions to follow me into a side street.

  Three men hung from nooses out of windows to our left, their feet barely touching the ground. Fred shielded Dharma’s eyes from the sight as we walked pass them. The three suspended men were probably desperate and without hope when they decided to check out.

  I spotted an old van further down the street. It was a rustic old thing from the 60s and probably belonged to some old man perving on children in a park or something.

  “Over there.” I said.

  I led the others to the van. The sliding door stood open and I inspected the back of the van; it was empty and so was the front seat. Henry jumped in the front seat and searched for keys. Trust me when I say; the movies are a big fat lie when people find keys in a car. It does not work that way in real life.

  “No keys.” Henry said, “But I can hotwire it.”

  I nodded and kept a look out while the Fred and Dharma got into the back of the van. If only Fluffy was here we could have been Mystery Inc. I chuckled at the thought (note to self: start enjoying life’s little funny moments).

  The car started up and with it the CD player bellowed out an anthem from the 60s. I turned around with a jerk as the music echoed through the night.

  “Turn it off!” I called out.

  “I’m trying!” Henry said.

  A moment later the music stopped and all was quiet again. I scrutinized the distant darkness waiting for zombies, but nothing happened. The music was too loud and too abrupt for none of them to have heard us... nearby zomies were bound to hear it.

  I heard a squishing sound and faint growling. My eyes searched my surroundings and I noticed that one of the noose men was squirming to free himself. The more he squirmed, the more the noose cut into his neck and sliced away flesh until finally his body severed from the head and spine. It looked like a banana being peeled – the spine being the banana. The body of the man collapsed into a soggy mess on the ground and then the other two started wriggling like worms on a hook.

  “We have to get going.” I called over my shoulder.

  “So let’s go.” Henry called back.

  A small group of about twenty zombies came around the corner and started running towards the van when they saw me. I spun around, closed the sliding door and jumped into the passenger seat. Henry floored the gas and we drove off.

  I know the rear view side mirrors have a disclaimer that says ‘objects in the rearview mirror may appear closer than they are’, but some of the running zombies were in biting distance from the van.

  “You need to speed up.” I told Henry.

  “I’m going as fast as I can.” Henry said.

  The speedometer indicated that we were barely reaching a speed of 50. What a piece of junk this old van was. No wonder it was the only car left behind. The owners were probably eaten while they tried to get away with the snail-mobile.

  A bang echoed through the van as it swayed and Henry tried to keep control.

  “What was that?” Henry gasped.

  Dharma started screaming in the back of the van and I looked back over my shoulder. There was a hole in the sliding door and a gory dead arm was trying to claw at them. Fred dragged Dharma away and they cowered against the other side of the van.

  I turned back in my seat and looked at the zombie in the side mirror. It clung to the side of the van like a barnacle as it clawed through the hole in the sliding door.

  “What is going on?” Henry demanded, “What’s happening back there?”

  “Baby, keep quiet.” Fred hushed Dharma.

  I had to do something before more zombies got the same idea. I rolled down my window, reached out to the windshield and snapped off the nearest windshield wiper.

  “What are you doing?” Henry asked as he took an overpass onramp.

  I ignored him and dangled out of the window while grasping onto the door framework with my left hand. I held the wiper like a knife in a stabbing position and speared the zombie in the head. The zombie made a screeching sound and then it was motionless. The lifeless corpse fell and tore to bits as it rolled along the tar road and landed underneath the rear wheels.

  We were not in the clear yet. Though the other zombies were about half a block away, they were still in pursuit of the van with no signs of giving up on some canned food.

  I climbed back into the van and was confused as to why we were driving on an overpass.

  “Where are you going?” I asked worried.

  “I don’t know.” Henry said, “I cannot concentrate when the dead are chasing me.”

  “This bridge is not finished.” I said with great concern.

  “What?” Fred gasped in the back.

  “The bridge is not finished.” I said concerned, “There is a section still missing.”

  “What do you mean?” Henry asked.

  “Aren’t you from Kingston Valley?” I asked annoyed.

  “I just transferred here.” Henry cried out.

  A section of the bridge up ahead seemed much darker than the rest of the bridge and I knew we were quickly approaching the missing section.

  “STOP!” I yelled.

  Henry slammed on the brakes and the van came to a screaming halt a few feet from the missing section. Henry looked over the steering wheel at the gorge in front of us and let out a deep sigh.

  “What now?” Fred asked anxiously.

  The side mirror slowly magnified the zombies as they got closer and closer. We could not go forward and I could not risk their lives by going back. A pack of twenty-odd zombies could easily overpower us. I had to take out as many as I could; so I got out of the van.

  “Where are you going?” Henry cried out.

  I opened the sliding door, jerked and dislocated it from the sliding track. Fred and Dharma stared in astonishment as I stepped back with the sliding door in both hands. I scrutinized the group of approaching zombies and then threw the door at them like one would toss a Frisbee. The door sliced through the air at an incredible rate, cutting the zombies down as it sliced through their abdomens. The door sliced through the last of the undead and then slammed into a nearby light pole. The zombies lay in a swamp of severed body parts; groaning and trying to move, but they couldn’t.

  I turned to Fred who was cradling Dharma.

  “I think we’ll be alright.” I said smug.

  I liked saving the day. It made me feel good and needed. I liked being the hero, even though I was probably the most unconventional hero in history. Dharma was the first one who dared to get out of the van. She looked at the moon in the sky and then at me as I held out my hand. I helped her out of the van and then Fred got out. They stared at the marsh of wriggling body parts a few yards back as Henry got out.

  “They’re not dead yet.” Fred said with caution.

  “They can’t get to us anymore.” I assured him, “but if you want, we could put them down for good?”

  Fred nodded and turned to Dharma, “Honey, stay with the nice man.”

  Fred gestured that Dharma should stay with Henry and she obliged.

  “Daddy will be right back.” Fred said.

  Fred turned to me and no
dded that he was ready and we walked to the marsh of zombie parts.

  “You are something else.” Fred said, “Aren’t you afraid of dying?”

  “Sometimes.” I said.

  “The way you fight the undead is like nothing I have seen before.” Fred said.

  “It’s a gift…” I said, “And a curse.”

  We walked in silence for a moment and then Fred said, “Thank you for getting my little girl back.”

  It was the first time someone acknowledged that I helped them. It made me feel good.

  “No problem.” I said with a smile.

  “You’re a good man.” Fred said.

  I guess I was. Not many people would brave it into the dark unknown world of the dead to save the daughter of a stranger. We got to the marsh of zombies and stared down at them. A severed arm reached up at us from the bloody goo while some of the heads crunched their teeth at the air.

  “Let’s do this.” I said.

  I raised my foot and brought it crashing down on one of the heads, and it exploded into bits of brains, blood and skull. I squashed the next head with my foot as well. It was like a very gruesome pop-the-weasel game. Fred raised his foot and stomped a severed head, but it slipped out from underneath his foot in the goo.

  “You have to step down harder.” I said.

  Fred tried again; he squashed the head and it exploded, sending the lower jaw flying off the hinges. Fred smiled and then got more into the spirit of stomping zombie heads. We stomped the zombie heads until none of the body parts were moving anymore.

  Fred looked up from the bloody swamp and smiled at me.

  “This was actually fun.” He said, “In a morbid way of course.”