The phone rang, and Jack Pennywise answered. “Where’s Pickle Jack?”
Jack Pennywise rolled his eyes, “I’m on my way boss.”
“You better be there in ten minutes, or you can consider this your last job. I’ve got an angry mom bitching about how Pickle Jack the clown is almost thirty minutes late.” The boss screamed.
“I said I’m on my way. Relax.”
“Why do I keep putting up with your shit?” The man on the phone bellowed.
“Because I’m the only clown you have that isn’t drunk or a closet pedophile. I’ll be there in five minutes tops. Just relax.”
The boss screamed, and then hung up. Jack turned onto the street where the party was supposed to be held. Another minute later and he was parking on the street with the other cars. Jack opened his door, put his giant floppy shoes on the ground, and slowly slipped them on. “Showtime.” Jack grumbled as he lifted himself from the car.
*Squeak-Squeak*
His giant shoes always got everyone’s attention. They had the tiny little squeakers that you put in dog toys, and whenever he took a step they gave a high pitched sound. Parents thought it was annoying, but kids loved it, and if a kid loved it then you got invited to other parties. More parties equaled more money.
“Why are you late?” A woman in her late thirties snapped. She had drawn on eyebrows, and nails as fake as her breasts.
Jack took one look at her and warning bells went off in his head telling him that the woman who hired him was the trophy wife. Jack smiled, but inside he cringed. He hated trophy wives. They were so busy trying to have the best and the biggest, that they were never satisfied with anything. It meant he’d have to work twice as hard to earn half the tip.
“Well?” She glared.
“Well what?” Jack answered in as neutral a voice as possible.
“Well what took you so long?”
“Resistentialism.” Jack said sarcastically.
“What?”
Jack sighed, “My car wouldn’t start.”
“I’m docking you for the first hour.” She snapped.
“Of course you are.” Jack mumbled as he followed her to the backyard.
When he got there forty kids were running and playing with the water hose. They were soaked. Jack hated kids. He hated being a clown. Unfortunately nobody was really looking to hire someone with a doctorate in art history and two sexual harassment lawsuits. So in the meantime he was falling back on the family profession. Jack’s father had been a clown. His grandfather had worked for P.T. Barnum himself. His father loved being a clown. A child’s laughter was its own reward. Jack however just wanted the money. His father always told him that he had all the talent in the world, but none of the heart. Jack didn’t disagree.
He hated being a clown. He hated the way his face felt when he put on the makeup. He hated how his head itched under the wig once he started sweating. He hated the floppy shoes that squeaked, the flower that shot water, and most of all he hated the red rubber nose…especially the one that squeaked.
Jack turned up his smile until it was as wide and friendly as he could. It actually made his face hurt a little. He walked over to the swimming pool. “Hey kids! Who wants to play with Pickle Jack the clown?”
The birthday boy had the hose. He looked at Pickle Jack and frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“You’re divinely beef-witted mother employed me to initiate you children in the fine art of buffoonery.” Jack responded.
The birthday boy pointed a water hose at the man “I wanted Spongebob!” The water blasted him in the face, and knocked him backwards into the pool. The water was freezing. The wig, the costume, and the shoes absorbed the water, and began weighing him down.
The kids erupted into laughter while Jack fought to keep from drowning. “Help!” Jack screamed.
“I thought all clowns could float.” The boy said.
“I don’t float! I don’t float at all!” Jack cried.
The child’s mother snatched the hose from her son, “Jacob!”
Jacob glared at his stepmother, “Theresa!”
“Keep it up mister, and I’ll heat up that behind of yours.” Theresa’s snapped.
“You’re not my mother.” James screamed.
“Thank God.” Theresa responded as she threw the hose in to Jack. The clown pulled himself up out of the pool. When he finally made it out, his makeup was smeared into a blurry gray. His costume clung to him, and his giant floppy shoes made fart sounds with each step. The kids liked that even better.
“What the fuck is wrong with that little monster?” Jack sputtered.
Theresa opened her mouth to respond, but Jacob dove on top of her. The young boy started bashing the woman’s face into the cement. Some of the other parents tried to pry the boy off his mother, but he just batted them away. Jacob’s father tried to kick the child off of his new wife, but the boy just grabbed his leg, and then he snapped it so that the femur suddenly took the shape of an “L”
Some of the other parents tried to get their children away to safety, but as soon as they got close enough the kids pounced. Jack stared in horror as the children ripped their parents apart. Little boys and girls were playing with their parents organs like they were just a macabre sandbox.
The kids killed everyone within minutes, and they were stripping the flesh from. They devoured the brains like they were candy, and then all their eyes turned to Jack.
***
Brian Waters pushed his way through the front doors. There was nobody at the desk so he clocked in and changed into his scrubs. It seemed a little strange that he hadn’t run into anyone. He wandered back to the nursing station at the back of the hospice. He couldn’t help but feel a little concerned at the lack of people along the way. Every door was shut. He didn’t hear a television, or even a radio. The only sound came from his shoes hitting the tile. With no other sounds to drown them out his shoes echoed loudly.
He reached the nursing station. It was empty, and so he walked around the desk to see what his assignment was for the day. As he stepped around the desk, his foot hit something slippery, and he fell flat on his back. The thud echoed out like thunder. “Ow…what the fuck?” Brian rubbed his head, and tried to see what he slipped on. Blood was pooled all around him. Then he saw Bridget. She was the head nurse. The back of her skull had been crushed in. At least that’s what he thought at first, but then he realized that it was just that the woman was missing the back of her head.
Brian screamed and backed away. “Help!” When he reached the wall, he used it to edge himself back up to his feet. “Somebody help me!” Brian’s voice echoed.
*Squeak*
The sound was coming from near the front of the hospice. Brian turned to peek around the corner. It was an old man in a wheelchair.
*Squeak*
It was the sound the old man’s chair made as he rolled closer. Brian sighed in relief, but then he noticed the red ring around the man’s mouth. Red ran down his chest and dripped onto the floor. The old man started pushing his wheels faster.
*SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK*
The old man was coming right for him. Brian screamed and turned to run away. He hadn’t even heard the woman that was now just ten feet behind him. She was eighty if she was a day, and covered in blood. Her blue hair had bits of skin stuck to it, and she was still chewing on a finger. The old woman used her walker to close the distance.
Brian dodge the old woman, and then tried to get to the fire exit, but more infected elderly began to come out of their doors. “Oh shit!” Brian screamed and turned completely around. He dodged the old woman again, and started running for the front. With each fall of his foot more doors opened. Some were in walkers, some had canes, More than a few were in wheelchairs. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and layed out on the tile floor like a baseball player sliding into second. An oxygen tank went flying just over his head, and buried into the wall.
Brian popped back up to his feet, and glared at the hole. One of the old geezers just threw a large oxygen tank down a hallway. Brian couldn’t have done that on a good day. He turned to run, and nearly moved right into the waiting arms of Mitzy Barr, the Alzheimer patient from 8C.
“Are you my grandson?” Mitzy asked. Blood and bits of flesh ran down her chin. She lunged at him, and Brian sidestepped. In desperation he punched her in the side of the head. He was already running down the hall before she crumpled onto the tile floor. More and more elderly were stepping out to get him. Some were chasing him on their electric wheelchairs.
***
“Thank God you guys are safe.” B.J. said.
“It’s been a rough night.” Sarah answered as she turned the wheel to go back home. “I really didn’t expect to see you at your dad’s house. I thought you were supposed to be studying that head.”
B.J. shook her head, “I stepped away for ten minutes to go look something up on viruses. When I got back one of the deputies got bitten. So we had to have him secluded.”
“Well that seems pretty straightforward. So why did you come back home?”
“One of the frat boys apparently heard about the head, and he thought it would be cool to show it off at a party. He snuck in and stole it while we were getting the officer locked away. The idiot turned her head into a bong. The next thing I know half the campus is infected. There wasn’t anything I could do there. I begged a lot of the others to get out of there before the infection spread to the whole town. I don’t think many of them listened though. I came home. I figured Dad would be home, and he’d know what to do.”
“Bobby slept over at our house last night. I guess I should warn you. He’s missing part of his earlobe.” Sarah tried to keep her voice calm.
“Oh my God! What happened?”
Sarah’s hands gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. “Zombies attacked our house last night. One of them tried to shoot him. It just clipped his ear. He’s fine, but he looks like hell.”
B.J. started crying, “Jesus! What are we going to do?”
Sarah smiled and tried to calm the young woman, “We’ll be fine. The zombies may be all over LSU, but the Louisiana National Guard will move in and handle it. As for us…I think it’d be best if we went somewhere with more police, and more people. That way we don’t end up in a situation like we had last night. So I think now would be a good time to head down to New Orleans.”
“But what if they make it down there?” B.J. asked.
“Then we should have plenty of warning. We get out of the city at the first sign of the infection, and in the meantime we find ourselves a nice hotel to stay at.”
“How are you going to find a hotel? Isn’t everything booked up?”
Sarah grinned, “One of the perks of being rich is that if you throw enough money at a problem, it either fixes itself or it goes away.” Sarah said as she made another turn.
“HELP!”
Sarah slammed on the brakes. Her car skidded to a halt. “Where’s that coming from?”
B.J. shook her head, “I don’t know…wait…look over there.”
Sarah and B.J. watched as a man in scrubs ran towards them. Behind him were forty elderly men and women. The electric wheelchairs were gaining on the man, but if he kept running, and if Sarah drove down the road cut the distance, then he might just be able to escape. Sarah stepped on the gas and Brian began to veer straight for their car.
An old woman lifted her walker, and flung it at the man. He was twenty feet away when the walker imbedded itself into his back and burst out through his chest. Blood sprayed out from the wound, and he fell lifeless on the ground.
“Holy shit!” B.J. screamed.
“Hold on!” Sarah put a protective arm in front of the young woman. She stomped on the gas, and wheels screamed. Smoke billowed out from behind the car, and she sped off down the street. Some of the old fogeys on their electric wheelchairs and rascals tried to block her way. Sarah just drove faster. The car hit them doing forty. False teeth, toupees, and medic alert bracelets went flying. The car jerked and bounced as they drove over the people in their wheelchairs. Sarah kept driving. Some of the elderly began throwing things at the car to try and make it stop. Some threw shoes. A few threw their walkers, and several threw their colostomy bags like grenades, and they hit the car with such force that their contents burst all over the vehicle.
Sarah fish-tailed down the road as her windshield wipers worked extra hard to remove the bloody fecal matter from the exploded bags. The infected elderly quickly disappeared behind them. Both women exhaled in relief, and Sarah let her foot relax on the gas pedal a little.
“What the fuck!” Sarah said in disbelief as a clown ran out from a house. He had giant floppy feet. Behind him were a group of children covered in blood. The women could hear each footfall making a loud fart sound. One of the children grabbed a yellow handkerchief and pulled. The yellow handkerchief was attached to a blue handkerchief, and that one was attached to a red one, that was attached to a white one. Pickle Jack ran, and left a colorful trail of handkerchiefs behind him. He almost reached the street when the handkerchiefs snapped tight.
Pickle Jack’s hips stopped moving forward even though the rest of his body kept trying to run away. It was an old joke, but the kids always had loved it. The handkerchiefs were tied end to end, and the very last one was always tied to his underwear. Kids loved the visual gag. The last thing Jack ever expected was to have a group of undead children reeling him in like a fish.
Sarah didn’t even try to slow down. The man was already as good as dead. So she just slammed her foot to the floor, and sped away. Jack screamed to her for help, but the kids already had him. They held him down and sang happy birthday as Jacob kneeled at Jack’s head. When they finished Jacob bit down on Jack’s forehead. Jacob’s tiny teeth slowly gnawed through to the clown’s brain. The rest of the kids waited patiently until Jacob had his face buried in brain matter. Then they began eating him as well.
Twenty minutes later they stripped the clown down to his bones, and then they began breaking them to suck the marrow like they were pixie sticks. After they finished, Jacob stood up and started walking down the street. The other kids followed him in a search for more food. They got halfway down the block when Jacob’s stomach rumbled. The hazel eyed boy covered his stomach, then burped as loudly as possible before turning to his friends and saying with a smirk, “That clown tasted funny.”
Bobby grumbled as he stepped into the shower. It had taken him far longer to clean up the water from the bidet than he expected. The water was red as cherry Kool-Aid for the first fifteen minutes. The wound on his ear stung as the showerhead sprayed it. He didn’t even attempt to use soap until the water changed to a slight pink color. Grit was caked in even his most intimate places. He used the showerhead to reach Shampoo, conditioner, and body wash bottles were lined up along the side of the shower. Bobby searched through them all. “Let’s see…Secret Wonderland, Forever Sunshine, Sweet Peony Dream, Moonlight Path, Pink Chiffon, Sexy Dahlia Rush, Cashmere Glow, Twilight Woods, Butterfly Flower? Is there anything here that doesn’t smell like I’m a man that wants to take it in the ass?”
After searching some more, he found some coconut scented body wash. “Shit. Well beggars can’t be choosers. Besides…I haven’t found anything else that won’t have me smelling like Justin Bieber’s taint.” He found a loofa and started scrubbing. The remaining dried blood scraped away. Three days of dirt from digging septic tanks eventually washed off. Even the sludge caked between his toes rinsed off eventually. He was getting prune hands by the time he finished. Bobby shut off the water and stepped out. He took a towel and began drying himself. “These towels are softer than my blankets.” Bobby put the towel between his legs and pulled it back and forth and laughed, “Oh yeah…there’s nothing quite like a clean ball sack.”
There was a loud bang as the front door swung open. “I guess Sarah’s back with my change of clothes.” Bobby finished drying himself off, and then wrapped the towel around his waist. “I gotta get me some of these. They’re so soft. This has gotta be what it’s like to get a lap dance from an angel.”
Bobby opened the door and stepped out. “Sarah?” When there was no answer he started walking down the stairs. “Sarah?” There was no sound at all. Bobby kept descending down the stairs. He was almost all the way down to the bottom when he heard a crash in the kitchen. “Sarah?”
There was scuttling coming from the kitchen. “Out of my way…he’s mine!” It was a voice he’d never heard before.
“No…I want him.” The woman’s voice sounded nothing like Sarah.
A kid screamed, “Leave some for me!”
He could hear them fighting to get through the kitchen. Bobby looked for a way out. The kitchen was closer to the front door than he was. So Bobby turned and made a hasty retreat up the stairs. Seconds later he heard three people running up behind him. Bobby ran into the exercise room, and slammed the door shut. He ran to the window and opened it. His pursuers kicked in the door behind him. Bobby dove through the screen and rolled down the roof. He stopped himself just before he fell off the ledge.
A man stuck his head out. He was black and bald with Lizbeth tattooed along the right side of his neck, and Dez tattooed on the left side of his neck. “Get your pasty ass back in here.”
Bobby ran along the roof. His towel slipped off and Bobby started to try to go back for it, but then he saw the man coming out of the roof to get him. He was followed by a large black woman that he could only assume was Lizbeth because she had Marlon tattooed on one boob, and Dez tattooed on the other. The man pushed the woman and screamed, “He’s mine!” He then turned and tried to run after Bobby.
That’s when the Lizbeth shoved the man off the roof. “Sorry Marlon! You’re still my Boo, but it’s first come first serve, and I’m starving.”
Marlon rolled down the slope of the roof, and then dropped off the edge. “You bitch!”
*Thump*
“I broke my leg!” Marlon screamed.
“Sorry Boo. I’ll save you the gizzard.” Lizbeth screamed as she waddled herself along the roof.
“People ain’t got no gizzards.” Marlon groaned.
Lizbeth laughed, “I know…so I guess you’re just shit out of luck.”
Marlon screamed, “Bitch!”
Bobby ran along the slope of the house searching for an open window. The roofing tiles were already getting hot from the sun, and they were so rough that it hurt his feet. “Oh look at that white boy run. You’d think we were having a blizzard by the look of your tiny dangler there.” Lizbeth taunted.
“I’m a grower…not a shower!” Bobby screamed over his shoulder. He saw an open window and was just about to dive in, when a young black teen leapt out the window right at him. “Oh fuck!” Bobby screamed and jumped straight up in the air. The kid’s forehead hit Bobby right in the testicles and turned the older man for a loop. Bobby crashed down on top of Dez facing back to back. Dez’s momentum carried him down the tile, and Bobby went with him. Bobby’s hands scrambled to find something to stop his momentum, but they both went right off the roof and slammed into the barbeque Sarah bought her husband last Christmas. The impact would have killed Bobby if he hadn’t landed on top of the young man. Instead he just had the wind knocked out of him. Dez’s sternum shattered, and six of his ribs broke.
“Dezzy! Mama’s coming!”
Bobby’s eyes snapped open in time to see a very large fat black woman leaping off the roof. Her cheap weave fluttered in the wind as she fell like a piano from a Warner Brothers cartoon. Bobby screamed, and rolled off of Dez. He hit the ground with an audible thump. He wasn’t complaining though, because when Lizbeth landed on the top of the barbeque, it caved in. Metal squealed as it deformed, and there was an audible pop as Dez’s spine snapped.
Bobby got to his feet. Lizbeth was already climbing off her son. “Look what you did to my son!”
“What I did? I didn’t do that. You did that! Twinkies helped.” Bobby grabbed a lawn chair and smashed it over her head. He dropped the chair legs and started running. “Ow! Ow! Fucking stickers!” Bobby hopped and high-stepped his way towards the front of the house.
“Get your cracker ass back here!” Marlon screamed as he lumbered around. The man’s leg was bent outward, and the foot was twisted backwards. It barely supported the man, and every time he shifted his weight onto that leg he gave a quick hop to get back to his good leg.
“It’s Coonass! Ow! Colton’s gardener needs a swift…OW…kick in the balls!” Bobby kept hopping and jumping because of the stickers. He tiptoed as quickly as he could into the house. It was the part of his feet that wasn’t already throbbing from the sharp burrs imbedded into his feet. Bobby turned into the kitchen and sat down on the kitchen island so that he could pick the burrs out of his feet. The door was already laying on the floor. “I need some fucking shoes.”
“I’m gonna kill that cracker!” Marlon screamed as he came up the stairs.
“Look what he made me do to Dez!” Lizbeth yelled.
“I got stickers in my Jimmy.” Dez grumbled.
Bobby got the last of the stickers out of his feet. He jumped down and ran back out of the kitchen. On the way he pulled a frying pan off its hook, and then he slipped down the hallway towards the living room. He was almost there when Marlon appeared at the end of the hallway yelling, “I got your cracker ass!”
“I told you…it’s Coonass!” Bobby yelled.
“Crackerass…Coonass…you white people all look alike to me so who gives a shit?” Marlon muttered.
Bobby panicked and made a wrong turn. He ducked into Sarah’s writing room instead of the living room, and then slammed the door behind him. There was a table, a desk, a laptop, and a wastebasket. She had pictures of her and Colton’s vacations on all the walls. He could see Colton skiing. There was a picture of Colton about to go skydiving. Bobby couldn’t help but think that Colton had a whole second life that Bobby knew nothing about. There was even a large photo of Colton in a speedo getting ready to go snorkeling. The disturbing image was burned into Bobby’s retinas. The fat little ginger hadn’t taken care of all his grooming issues, and red pubic hair poked out on both sides of the speedo. The only good thing about the picture was that Sarah was in a skimpy bikini draped all over him.
He heard Marlon getting closer. There wasn’t anywhere to go. Sarah had even had the room built without a window so she’d have no distractions. Bobby reached over to pick up Sarah’s computer, but then grabbed the wastebasket instead. She was always working on a new book. He thought how it might upset her to have her work destroyed, so he grabbed the much flimsier wastebasket.
Marlon slammed both forearms against the door, and it was tore off the hinges. Marlon waddled in. “I got your crackerass!”
Bobby slammed the open end of the wastebasket over the man’s head, and snaked his way around him. “I told you…my name is Coonass!” The man swung both arms viciously at Bobby’s head. They crashed into the wall. The lights flickered and then went off in the whole house. Bobby looked down the hallway. He considered running back through the front door, but by then Lizbeth was waddling towards him, and her son Dez crawled behind her. “Shit.”
Bobby spun and was going to head toward the living room instead when Marlon grabbed him by the shoulder. “I got you!”
“Bam!” Bobby screamed as he swung the frying pan. There was a loud bong as it connected with Marlon’s face. The man stumbled back into Sarah’s office. “Kick it up a notch!” Bobby turned and ran laughing into the living room, and then from there he scrambled up the stairs to Colton’s bedroom.
“Oh…you thought that was funny motherfucker!” Marlon was back onto his feet. Bloody teeth fell out of his mouth and rattled on the floor. “You think you’re just a regular Emeril Laggasse motherfucker! You wait until I catch you. I’m gonna shove an apple in your ass and bake you like chicken!”
“Gee…a black man liking chicken…what are the odds?” Bobby screamed.
“You racist motherfucker!” Carl roared.
Bobby ran around Sarah’s bed screaming, “I’m sorry…did I offend the man trying to eat me? How about you come up here and let me massage the tension away with a sensual frying pan beat down. I’ll cook you up some fried whoop-ass!” Bobby could hear them all coming up the stairs. He went into Colton’s closet. “Shit.” The gun safe was locked. “What good is a gun safe if you can’t get into it.”
Bobby stepped out of Colton’s closet. There wasn’t anything in the house that he could really use as a weapon. If he could get out to the storage barn in the back yard then he could probably find something to fight them off with. Of course there were two problems. The first being that he’d have to run barefoot across two hundred yards of sticker-filled backyard, and the second being that they were about to come in through the door. Bobby tried to open the window to go back outside, but the windows had child safety locks on them that only let them open so wide. “They baby-proofed the bedroom? What the fuck?”
Bobby saw two pink fluffy slippers beside the bed. They were little pink unicorns. “Wear the faggy little unicorn slippers and live, or go barefoot and die.” Bobby hesitated as he tried to decide on whether to wear the slippers or not. “Fuck it!” Bobby snarled as he slipped on the pink unicorns. Marlon and his family were pushing through the door.
“We got you now you squirrelly son of a bitch!” Lizbeth screamed.
Bobby threw the frying pan at Marlon. It whirled through the air and slammed into the bridge of his nose. Marlon’s left eye socket shattered, and his eyeball slowly slid out until it was dangling from his face. Marlon growled, “Oh this is bullshit!”
Bobby was out of weapons, and out of time. In desperation he reached into Sarah’s end table, and pulled out the king of all vibrators. It had a rotating head, nine speeds, and when he accidently turned it on, it writhed like an angry snake.
Marlon started laughing, “What are you gonna do with that thing?” Bobby reached down one more time and pulled out a large bottle of sex lube. Marlon doubled over laughing, “Oh shit! We’re really fucked now!” Lizbeth and Dez both started laughing.
Bobby opened the lid and started pouring the lube all over his body. It only made the three zombies laugh even harder. Bobby didn’t pay them any attention. Instead he just reached back into the desk and pulled out every other lube and body oil he could find. He reached in one last time and pulled out some anal beads. “Eww!” He threw them away, and they landed on Lizbeth like a necklace.
“Get this nasty shit off me!” Lizbeth tossed them on the floor.
Bobby made a desperate attempt at escape. He ran directly at the family, and at the last second he jumped at the space between Marlon and Lizbeth. Both zombies grabbed at him, but their hands just slipped on the lube. Bobby sailed over Dez, hit the floor, and slid into the handrail. The wood spokes that attached to the handrail snapped, and Bobby’s momentum carried him right on out into open space. He dropped almost straight down. He crashed onto Sarah’s couch. The frame snapped and gave way, but the soft padded cushions kept him from breaking anything. Instead of being crippled, Bobby was thrown back up into the air, and he went crashing through the coffee table.
Bobby was sore, but he didn’t waste any time. The man rolled out from the kindling that used to be a table. He started getting to his feet when Lizbeth jumped from the second floor railing. She crashed onto the broken couch, but she was so heavy that she didn’t bounce. Bobby was on top of her immediately. He took the vibrator and rammed it into her left eye. Lizbeth screamed as the eyeball burst like an overfilled water balloon. Bobby yanked the vibrator back and rammed it into the other eye. Lizbeth howled, “Help me Marlon! I can’t see.”
“I’m coming Lizbeth.” Marlon leaned out let his body fall from the railing. Bobby rolled off the fat black woman just in time to hear the crash of flesh as Marlon slammed into her. The impact was so violent, that it crushed the woman’s ribs, and blood spurted out of her mouth and eye sockets like a water fountain.
“Kick his ass baby!” Lizbeth gurgled. Blood bubbled and frothed down the sides of her mouth with each word.
Bobby was up and sprinting for the hallway that lead to the front door. Marlin was shambling after him. As Bobby went out the front door, he heard a long series of thumps as Dez rolled down the stairs. Bobby ran as hard as the fluffy slippers would let him. When he got to the barn the slippers were covered in stickers. He opened the door and slipped inside.
There was a mid-sized tractor with mower underneath that Bobby could raise and lower using hydraulics. There were other attachments that could be connected onto the back of the tractor. Bobby gave a quick look at the tools, and decided to grab himself a shovel. Then he went back to the tractor attachments. He didn’t have much time, so he decided to grab the only thing light enough for him to move easily. He attached the drill that normally got used to dig holes for fence posts, and then he grabbed the keys.
His pursuers were making their way to the barn. Dez was only halfway to the building, and the more he crawled, the more he cursed about the stickers getting imbedded in his hands and lower body. Lizbeth was three quarters of the way there. Blood poured out from her mouth. She was blind but still able to follow the screams and yells of her husband. Marlon was closest at twenty feet from the barn doors. “Give it up. We got your crackerass trapped now!”
“I told you…my name is COONASS!” Bobby yelled back as he twisted the key. The tractor roared to life. He threw it in gear and drove right for the closed barn doors. The John Deere burst through the double doors and drove straight for Marvin.
“Oh shit!” Marlon turned and started shuffling away. “Run Lizbeth!”
“That’s right…chase me now motherfucker!” Bobby laughed as he accelerated.
The tractor ran over Marlon. Bobby raised the mower blade as high as possible, and then when he had it positioned over Marlon he began lowering it. The man screamed as the dual blades came down and began chopping the man to tiny shreds. Blood and flesh sprayed in all directions as Bobby kept lowering the blade down. The blade went as low as he could make it, and when he raised it back up the only thing still intact was the man’s head and one arm. “I just hate when I miss a spot.” Bobby pulled forward and then lowered the blades again. There was a meaty thump when the blade made contact. Marlin’s head was diced into tiny bits and sprayed everywhere.
“Next!” Bobby screamed at Lizbeth. He threw the tractor in reverse and started backing towards her. The giant post hole digger began spinning faster and faster. Lizbeth heard the tractor and ran, but didn’t get far. The drill knocked her down, and then Bobby flipped the switch that lowered the hydraulics. The drill bit went through Lizbeth’s chest. Bobby raised the hydraulics, and Lizbeth was lifted off the ground. Blood poured out of her.
“Leave my Mama alone!” Dez howled as he crawled faster.
“Aw…don’t be mad. I’m not the first guy that drilled your mamma.” Bobby taunted. Then he looked back down at Lizbeth, “But I sure as shit will be the last.”
“Kill…you!” Lizbeth groaned as blood bubbled out from her mouth and chest. The sex toy was still twisting and turning in her eye socket.
Bobby threw the drill in reverse and Lizbeth started spinning on the drill. Blood went everywhere. “Round and round she goes…where she stops nobody knows!” Bobby laughed and then shut off the drill. Lizbeth’s momentum caused her to twist her way back down the drill until she came off the end with a wet sucking sound.
“Mama!” Dez screamed.
The tractor adjusted its position and the drill began spinning again. Bobby lowered it down until the drill went through her head and sank into the ground three feet. Brain and bits of bone were tossed around along with shreds of plastic and latex from the sex toy. Bobby reversed the drill, and blood started filling the hole in the ground. “Two down…one to go!” Bobby threw it in drive and aimed for Dez.
“Oh shit.” Dez turned and started crawling away as quickly as he could. Bobby slowed the tractor down until it was barely a crawl.
“I’ll tell you what. If you stop crawling right now then I’ll just hit you with a shovel until you’re dead.” Bobby said.
“Fuck you!” Dez screamed. He made it to the front yard when Bobby finally got tired of chasing him and instead just accelerated a little so that he could park the back tire onto Dez’s legs.
The young man screamed and yelled as he tried to get away. So Bobby just kept driving the tractor up the young man’s legs, over his butt, and then up his back until the rear tire was right between his shoulders. The weight of the tractor pushed everything up through Dez’s body like he was a toothpaste tube. Blood, stomach acid, and pulped internal organs squirted out through his mouth and nose. Bobby hopped down, swung the shovel over his shoulder, and then walked to the front of the tractor. “Shit…you look like a frog on a highway.”
“F-f-f-fuck…y-y-y-you!”
Bobby laughed, “Does your mama know you talk like that?” When Dez started crying Bobby taunted, “Too soon?”
Dez started flailing his arms as he tried to claw his way out from under the tractor to get to the man. Bobby stared down at the undead teen, shrugged, and then walked over to sit on the porch. Dez screamed at him, “What? You don’t have the balls to finish me off?”
“Nope, It’s not that.”
“What? What is it then?”
“I can’t think of a great line to kill you with. You got any hobbies? You got anything interesting about you that I might be able to make fun of when I bash your skull in?”
“Fuck you!”
“Hey…you’re the one that was trying to eat me remember. I’ll make you a deal. You give me some interesting detail about you, and I’ll let you pick what I use to kill you with. I mean right now I have a shovel, but there’s nail guns and all kinds of shit back in that barn. I’m willing to walk back there if you just really wanted to have your head crushed by a leaf blower.”
“Fuck you!”
Bobby sat there in calm silence for a little over twenty minutes as he tried kept asking himself W.W.J.M.D.? (What Would John McClane Do?) After struggling to think of anything beyond Yippee-Kai-Ay motherfucker, Bobby gave a final shrug and said, “Okay, fine. Well I guess I don’t have to have a great line to kill you with.” Bobby groaned as he rose back to his feet. “It isn’t like there’s anyone around to appreciate it.”
“You’re crazy!”
“A little.” Bobby smirked. He stepped in front of Dez. The teen strained to look up at him. Blood bubbled and spurted out of his mouth. Bobby raised the shovel high up, and was just about to smash his head in when he heard a car approaching. Bobby lowered the shovel and turned around. It was Sarah’s car.
Dez grabbed Bobby’s ankle and pulled. Bobby went off his feet and landed flat on his stomach. Bobby rolled onto his back as the teen began pulling him closer. Dez opened his mouth to bite into the man. Bobby swung his shovel and brought the blade down between the teens hungry mouth and his ankle. Dez snapped at the metal and tried to move around the shovel’s blade. Bobby kicked the metal with his free leg. The steel smashed into Dez’s face. Bobby kicked three more times into the scoop of the metal blade, and Dez finally let go.
Bobby rolled free and stood up. There were stickers imbedded all in his back. Dez was still reaching out for him screaming, “Come back here motherfucker!”
Sarah’s car pulled into the driveway, and she hopped out of the car screaming, “Bobby!”
“Dad!” B.J. jumped out and started running towards her father.
Bobby swung the shovel over his shoulder and started walking towards the women when Dez screamed, “Yeah that’s right. Go hide behind those bitches.”
Bobby stopped and turned around slowly. “What?” Bobby slowly moved back to the young man.
“What?” Dez looked up into the man’s eyes. Bobby’s face was cold. “Oh I get it now. You don’t like anyone to call your hos bitches.” Dez started laughing. “Well those two bitches can suck on my nuts like the hos they are.”
*SCHLUNK-SCHLUNK*
Both of Dez’s arms were cut off at the shoulder. “What the f-“
*SCHLUNK*
Dez’s head rolled away from the blade of the shovel. His eyes rolled around as he tried to focus on the angry man holding the shovel. When he stopped rolling he looked into Bobby’s angry face and mouthed “Fuck you!”
Bobby stared at the decapitated head, and then looked at himself. There were bruises and scratches all over. He was aware of the stickers in his back, but just too tired and sore to care about them. Bobby bent over and picked the teen up by his hair. He then left the tractor and started walking back to the barn wearing nothing but the fluffy pink unicorn slippers. Sarah and B.J. called after him, but he was so angry that he wasn’t even listening anymore. They ran up to catch him, but he was just locked in on the barn. They tried to grab at him and get him to stop, but he kept walking.
He got into the barn and set Dez’s head on a work table. Bobby started looking through the tools and equipment. He had his head buried in a toolbox when Sarah put a hand on his shoulder, “Bobby?” He didn’t even respond.
B.J. called to him, “Dad?”
Bobby stood up with a red rubber glove and some duct tape. He walked over to the head, and stuck the open end of the glove over the bloody stump that was Dez’s neck. Then he wrapped duct tape around it until he was sure it wouldn’t come off. Then he lifted Dez’s head and stuck it in a vise. The glove faced the back wall, and the top of his head faced the destroyed barn doors. A few turns of the crank secured Dez in so that he couldn’t move. The vise had four sharp metal spikes that could be extended so that it could maintain a more secure hold on wood. They little gripping spikes bit into the flesh and left beads of blood dripping around the steel.
“Dad…you’re scaring me.” B.J. looked to be about to cry.
Bobby stopped, “Sorry…just sort of lost it for a minute there. I’d hug you but well.” Bobby gestured to the blood, muck, and stickers all over him. Then he looked at Sarah, “Believe it or not I did take a shower before all this started.”
Sarah smiled as she tried to keep from looking directly at the nude man.
B.J. screamed, “Oh my God! You told me never to get a tattoo and you’ve got one! That’s so unfair.”
“No…I said no tattoos until you’re older. I didn’t want you making any stupid mistakes that you’d regret for the rest of your life like oh say….exhibit A here.” Bobby answered as he pointed at the tattoo.
Sarah couldn’t help but look down. Tattooed on Bobby’s stomach was a raccoon with all four paws clawing down Bobby’s body. Claw marks went down from just below both nipples like the raccoon was shredding the man’s flesh as he slid down his body. The left back claw looked like it shredded most of Bobby’s hip, and the right back claw marks went all the way down until the raccoon’s back foot stopped on the front of his thigh just even with the man’s penis. The raccoon was looking over his shoulder and winking. His bushy tail swept off to the side. The tattoo artist used Bobby’s bellybutton as the raccoon’s butthole. Sarah’s eyes alternated from the man’s bizarre tattoo, to his penis, and then back again.
“When did you get that?” Sarah asked.
Bobby groaned, “Remember when Colton went with me to New Orleans to celebrate my divorce?” Sarah nodded. “Well I don’t remember too much from that night, and the stuff I do remember doesn’t make any sense. When I woke up the next morning I had this.”
“Dad? You got drunk and ended up with a tattoo. I don’t even know what to say.” B.J. snickered “Now can you put on some pants before I need therapy?”
Bobby shrugged, “It isn’t like I planned to be running around naked. Why don’t both of you go grab my clothes. I’ll finish up here, and then go get cleaned up…again.”
“Are you sure?” Sarah asked. “Why don’t you just come inside and get cleaned up?”
“I’ll be there in a few. I have to finish this up. Can you maybe go unlock the gun locker just in case some more show up?” Bobby asked.
Sarah nodded, “Sorry, I thought we were out of the worst of this.” Then she looked at B.J., “We are definitely going to find somewhere safe to hide out in New Orleans.”
B.J. nodded and followed her back to the house. A couple of times she looked back at the wrecked double doors, but her father was already working frantically on the head. “Does he seem to be acting kind of weird to you?” She asked.
“Honestly, with everything that’s happened…I think I’d be more worried if he was acting normal.” Sarah sighed. “Your dad’s had part of his ear shot off, he’s got a broken nose, and whatever happened while I was gone must have been pretty bad because he looks like one giant bruise. I don’t think he really even notices those burrs stuck in his back.”
“Maybe one of us should go back and make sure he’s okay? Maybe help him get back to the house. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, so when he comes down he’s going to start feeling all that.” B.J. asked.
“Okay. I’ll go back. You grab his clothes and put them up in the bathroom. The gun locker is in Colton’s closet. The combo is thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six.” Sarah smiled.
“You’re measurements?”
“When we first got married, but a few things have changed over the years. Not much, but they still have changed.” Sarah smirked and turned to head back to the barn.
“I’ll call Uncle Colt and make sure he’s headed back. We should probably get out of here as soon as he arrives.”
“Definitely, now let me get in there to talk your Dad out of the barn and into the shower. He’s absolutely filthy.” Sarah moved back to the barn. When he got to the entrance she could Bobby talking to the head.
Then she heard the head speak, “You motherfucker. Why don’t you just kill me?”
Bobby laughed, “Because I’m curious. I cut off your head, but you really didn’t seem too upset by it. I ran your Dad over, but he didn’t seem to be any really pain. I put a posthole drill through your mother, and she barely even registered it. So I’m wondering if maybe you fuckers don’t actually feel anything anymore, or if you’re all just really tough bastards.”
“What does it matter?” Dez answered.
Sarah peeked around the corner and gasped. Bobby had cut a hole in the rubber glove he attached to the teen’s neck hole. He then ran an air hose from a compressor into the hole of the glove and taped the opening with more duct tape. The air filled the glove, and made it look like Dez had a giant red turkey wattle for a neck. The air pushed through his neck hole and over his vocal chords so that Dez could speak.
Bobby turned around and saw Sarah. A sad look went over his face, and then he sighed, “Maybe you should head back inside. This isn’t going to be pretty.”
“Bobby, we need to get you cleaned up.” Sarah said nervously.
Bobby shrugged, “I need to do this.”
“Why?” Sarah looked ready to cry.
“I need to know if they suffer.” Bobby answered.
“But…why?” Sarah’s voice cracked.
Bobby looked at his feet and gave a broken sob. The pink fluffy unicorns were coated in stickers. “I’ve gotten lucky so far. I need to know what happens when my luck runs out.”
“Bobby!” Sarah gasped.
“I shouldn’t have survived what just happened. Who knows how many more there are? Shit…we still haven’t found that fucking werewolf. This might just be the end of the world.” Bobby sniffled as he tried to keep from crying.
“Ah is whitey gonna cry like a bitch!” Dez laughed.
“Shut up!” Bobby snapped and turned off the compressed air.
“Oh you ain’t gonna shut m…” Dez’s mouth kept moving, but no sound came out.
“Bobby…you aren’t going to die.” Sarah stepped closer.
She wanted to pull him in for a hug, but he held her away. “Better not. Who knows what stuff on me might be infectious.”
“We’ve got to get you cleaned up!” Sarah demanded.
“Just take the water hose over there and spray me down. Let’s get the gunk off me, and then when I finish here I’ll go get a shower.”
“Bobby…you aren’t going to die. So you get that stupid idea out of your head. Now get your ass into the house and get a shower. Whatever this was going to be about…you don’t need it.”
Bobby looked at the pretty blonde. All he wanted to do was lean in and kiss her, but instead he gave a weak smile and nodded. “Okay, but I just want to try one thing.” Then he turned around and unhooked the air hose line from the compressor. Bobby connected it to the tanks on a welder.
“I told you that you wouldn’t shut me up!” Dez’s voice was high-pitched like a chipmunk. “What did you do to my voice?”
“I just hooked you to a welding set. I gotta say you sound funny as hell on an argon and helium mix.” Bobby laughed. “You’re like my own little angry black chipmunk. Sing about how all you want is a hula hoop.”
“Motherfucker!” Dez squeaked, and Bobby doubled over laughing.
“Okay…now sing Funkytown! No! Sing Witch Doctor! I always loved Witch Doctor!” Bobby laughed and turned back to Sarah with a malevolently mischievous glint in his eyes, “We get two more of these fuckers and we’ll have the best Chipmunk Halloween decorations ever.”
Sarah tried not to laugh, but the mental image of a Bobby and Colton fighting over how to properly install heads just made her giggle. Finally she just started laughing loud and said, ”Well that would get the Joneses from down the street to quit stealing our decorations.”
“Fuck you bitch!” Dez yelled in his high-pitched squeaky voice.
Bobby’s reaction was immediate. He cranked the handle like a madman. The vise began to close. Bones strained under the pressure, teeth just popped out or shattered altogether. Blood ran out his nose, and mouth. The argon helium mix made little bubbles of blood rise from his tear ducts. Dez started to scream at the man, but there was an audible pop as the bone in his jaw gave way under the pressure. More teeth shattered, or just popped out as Bobby continued to turn the crank.
Dez’s right eye socket popped under the pressure, and when it did his eyeball just shot straight up like someone just uncorked a champagne bottle. His left eye then did the same with an audible pop. Both eyes slid down opposite sides of Dez’s face. The only thing that kept his eyes from hitting the floor was the optic nerves still connecting them to his now greatly deformed head.
“What do you have to say now motherfucker?” Bobby yelled at the head.
Dez blinked, and blood squirted up. His eyelids couldn’t close completely because of the optic nerves dangling out. He tried to say something, but he couldn’t move anything but his lips and tongue so what came out was a severely mangled, but extremely high-pitched goulash of sound that should have been “I’ll kill you, you rotten piece of shit.” Instead what came out was something sounding much closer to, “Illickurotticpesht.”
“I’m sorry…I didn’t catch that. Here, let me help you.” Bobby said as he gave one more turn of the crank. The steel spikes pushed through both cheek bones, and the other two spiked punctured the jawbone. They had sunk down all the way to the actual vise’s steel grip itself.
Dez’s tongue was pushed up and out of his mouth from the added pressure. All he could do was give a high-pitched scream, and ineffectually try to spit blood at the man. All Dez was really able to do was spew blood all over his own face.
“Bobby, this is getting a little…okay well a lot sick. Stop and let’s go back inside.” Sarah pleaded.
“Nobody gets to talk to you like that.” Bobby growled.
“Well Bobby…what’s his head gonna do? Now put the poor guy out of his misery. We need to get you cleaned up and presentable, because driving around with a man covered in blood might just raise some questions.”
Bobby nodded and then went to pick up a hammer to bash Dez’s brain in. On the way back Bobby saw a lighter, “Oh wait…just one more thing.”
“What now?” Sarah groaned.
Bobby took the lighter and set it beside the vise. Then he grabbed more duct tape and covered Dez’s mouth and eyesockets. “This is going to be so cool!” Bobby laughed.
“What are you doing?” Sarah eyed the man suspiciously.
Bobby ignored her and grabbed some plastic eye protectors. Then he grabbed a second set and handed them to Sarah, “If you’re gonna watch the show, you have to have protective eyewear.”
“Bobby.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“What are you going to do?” Sarah gave her best unhappy wife voice. It had always worked with Colton, but Bobby just ignored it and went searching for something in one of the cabinets.
“Where is it?”
“Where is what Bobby?”
“Colton confiscated some firecrackers from the Hansen brothers a couple weeks ago. We were planning on using them when we got bored on our next fishing trip.” Bobby said as he began rattling around inside another cabinet.
“Wait! Colton has illegal fireworks!” Sarah’s voice became shrill and very unhappy.
“No…of course not.”
“Oh thank God. I was worried for a moment there.” Sarah sighed in relief.
“Colton has illegal MEXICAN fireworks!” Bobby said, and immediately Sarah felt her eye twitch in irritation. “Found them!” Bobby was practically giddy as he brought the sack over to the work bench.
“What are you about to do?” Sarah tried her irritated wife voice again, but Bobby was ignoring her. Finally the frustration of not knowing got the better of her, “Bobby Mullins! You tell me what you’re up to right this instant mister.”
“Ever used a black cat on a frog?”
“Eww…no.”
Bobby stopped and grinned, “Me neither, but I was always curious what might happen.”
“You’re not.”
“I am.”
“Bobby.” Sarah grumbled in frustration.
Bobby smiled and said, “I’ll let you light the fuse.”
Sarah wanted to stand her ground, but instead she said, “I’m in.” She just blurted it out there before she had enough time to be properly indignant.
Bobby put one more piece of duct tape over the nose to seal it all in. Then he filled Dez’s head full of the argon and helium mix. He let the gas keep flowing until the rubber glove was swollen up like a giant ball. Bobby turned off the gas, and then removed the line. He pinched the hole on the glove and said, “Hand me one of those Barrenos. They’re the purple ones.”
Sarah took out one of the purple firecrackers and started giggling with evil glee. She handed it to Bobby, and he used it to plug up the hole in the finger of the glove. “Okay, now wrap some duct tape around the spot where the finger is pulled over the firework. We don’t want it to spit the thing out before you blow it up.”
Sarah did exactly what Bobby said, and then watched as he turned the crank to loosen the vise. Bobby picked up the head and carried it outside to lay it in the grass. Then he walked a little ways away and said, “Okay, now light it, and then run over here. I think I’m far enough away that when it blows we should be safe.”
Sarah practically skipped she was so excited. She bent over and lit the firecracker. Sarah ran to Bobby and then they waited in anticipation. Twenty seconds went by before Bobby shrugged and said, “Guess it was a dud.”
“Aww…talk about a letdown.” Sarah grumbled.
They both started walking back to the head, and were about five feet away when there was a sudden hiss as the fuse flared to life. “Oh shit! Run!” Bobby screamed. Sarah and Bobby turned, and then the firecracker exploded. The explosion ignited the mixture of helium and argon in the glove, and then traveled on through into the head. Dez’s head became a fine red mist, but the skull was already weak from being crushed, and so the brain exploded out the top of the skull and hammered into Sarah, knocking her down face first into the grass as it splattered like a paintball right between her shoulder blades. On her way down she tripped Bobby, and he went sliding across the grass as well.
“Sarah! Sarah are you all right.” Bobby screamed as he turned her over.
Sarah turned over and opened her eyes, “That…was…amazing!” She started laughing and snorting. He helped her to get up. There were stickers on the front of her shirt. Sarah felt the wetness on her back and slipped her shirt off to prevent any more contact with the brain. Huge breasts heaved in front of Bobby, and he felt himself swelling between his legs.
Sarah laughed and looked down, “Holy hell. Bobby…just…Jesus.”
Bobby turned beet red, “Like I told that guy’s mom earlier…I’m a grower not a shower.”
“We’ve got to find you a woman. That thing is like having a Ferrari and never driving it. I mean…Jesus Bobby.” She looked back up at the man’s face and blushed. Bobby started crying. “What’s wrong? Most men don’t get upset when you tell them they’re hung like a mule.”
“It isn’t that.” Bobby sniffled.
“What then?”
“I’ve got stickers in my ball sack.”
Sarah laughed, “Well let’s get you inside to get cleaned up, and you can get the burrs removed from you.” Sarah then walked back into the barn.
“What are you doing?” Bobby asked.
Sarah came walking back out with the firecrackers and said in her very best Gollum voice, “My precious.”
Bobby just shook his head and laughed, “I think I created a monster.” Then he waddled back towards the house. He was careful to keep his legs spread far apart to keep from irritating the stickers before he could find them all and pull them out.
“Could you imagine the movie posters?” Sarah laughed.
“Movie posters?” Bobby asked.
“You said you created a monster. Just imagine the movie posters. Boobzilla.” Sarah laughed.
Bobby grinned, “Boobenstein.”
“Not Frankenboob?”
“It sounds like you’ve only got one, and that’d be kind of creepy.”
“Good point.” Sarah laughed, “Boobula?”
“King Boobies!”
“The Boobman!” Sarah giggled, “Wait…no that would be a movie about Colton.”
Bobby started snickering, “Night of the Living Boobs.”
“The Mammaries…kind of like The Mummy, but with tits.”
“Day of the Boobs!”
“The Booby Snatcher!”
“The Boobs Have Eyes!” Bobby was giggling now, “Okay we gotta stop. The stickers are starting to really poke my balls.
“The Texas Booby Massacre.” Sarah continued. “An American Booby in London.”
“Stop…” Bobby’s balls were aching with every laugh.
“Never!” Sarah howled, “Friday the 13th part something or other…Jason takes my tits!”
“Ouch! Dammit this seriously hurts!” Bobby tried to sound serious, but it was hard because he was still laughing.
“Oh fine! Party pooper.” Sarah snickered. They finally reached the front door when she said, “A Nightmare on My Boobs, and who wouldn’t pay to see The Evil Boobs!”
“Dammit Sarah!”
“Colton…help!” Roger Cobb’s voice screamed over the phone.
“What’s wrong?”
“I got home, and all my neighbors were surrounding my house. I got my wife and kids out, but they chased us. We made it to the nature center in Tickfaw State Park. There’s about sixty of us in here, and they’ve got us surrounded. We barricaded everything, but they’re gonna get in if we don’t get some help.” Reggie sounded desperate.
Colton could hear banging in the background, “What’s that?”
“They’re beating on the walls, and one of them punched a hole in the door, but we have it blocked off. It won’t hold forever. Hurry Colton!” Roger pleaded.
“I’m coming!” Colton snarled and hung up the phone. He pressed down on the gas. He was about two blocks from his house. The Explorer squealed around a corner, and nearly tipped over. Colton fought the wheel to keep the SUV from rolling. Tires squealed as he went around a second corner. “What’s my tractor doing on the front lawn?” He grumbled as he fishtailed into his driveway.
“Colton? Are you okay?” Sarah asked as she walked out the front door.
Colton slipped out of the SUV and shook his head, “What the hell happened here?”
“I went to go get Bobby some clothes from his house, and while I was gone they broke our door down and came after Bobby.”
Colton couldn’t breathe. “Is he okay?”
“He’s in the shower…again. He’s looked better. The man is one giant bruise, but he’ll live.” Sarah ran over to her husband and dropped to her knees to hug him. “We can’t stay here. I’m going to rent us some hotel rooms in New Orleans. We’ll be safer there.”
Colton knew better than to argue. The woman had her mind set, and when she got like this there was no room for discussion. “You think that’s the best idea?”
“Honey. I don’t know what happened between last night and this morning, but the zombies are everywhere. We’re out in the middle of nowhere. Our neighbors aren’t exactly close by, but we’ve this house has been attacked twice in less than twenty-four hours.”
“And you really think the large crowds will keep us safer?” Colton asked.
“Honestly? Probably not, but it’ll at least give us a little warning if they start attacking the people. That way we know which way to run. I just wish I knew where all these zombies came from? It shouldn’t have been able to spread this fast.”
“Oh hell…I think I know what happened.” Colton groaned, “I found some of them in the water treatment plant. They must have infected everyone that took a shower, brushed their teeth, or even got a glass of water. Oh shit…we have to stop Bobby before he gets infected.”
Sarah smiled, “We have our own well.”
“We do?”
“Seriously? You don’t remember when I had them make this place green? I added the solar power, the well, the wind turbine at the back of the property?”
Colton thought about it and then shrugged, “I remember you dressing like a hippy for about six months and getting pissed because Bobby refused to recycle his beer cans.”
“I can’t believe you don’t remember that.” Sarah sounded genuinely hurt.
Colton sighed and raised his hand, “Honeypie…you know I love you, but when you get bored you like to try out things. Every time I turn around you’re redecorating the house, buying a new wardrobe, or buying something for your newest hobby. Don’t get me wrong…it’s your money, and you have every right to do what you want with it, but it’s next to impossible to keep up with what you’re doing from one minute to the next.”
“You really don’t remember the two weeks they spent fitting the house for solar power?” Sarah pouted.
“Baby…I don’t even know where they put the solar panels. I remember an electrician stealing my beer. I remember the baby doll tops, and that fringe vest you were wearing all the time. Oh and that corset blouse…I remember you in that blouse on the stairs. What happened to that blouse anyway?” Colton grinned lecherously.
Sarah giggled, “You ripped it…while we were on the stairs.”
“Oh yeah, good times.” Colton laughed. Then his face got serious, “I love you…but I need to get upstairs, get some guns, and then go rescue one of my former deputies.”
“We loaded most of the guns into my car already. Now what do you mean former deputy?” Sarah asked.
“My whole staff has either quit, or been eaten.” Colton answered. “Roger is trapped at a nature center. I have to at least try and save him.”
Sarah nodded, “Okay, but we’re coming too.”
“No Baby…it won’t be safe there.”
“It isn’t safe here. I’m not sure that it’s safe anywhere. Besides…it’s for better or worse remember.”
Colton thought about it and then nodded, “Well this sure as shit qualifies as for worse.”
Sarah followed her husband into the house to get the rest of the guns. They went upstairs and walked into the bedroom. Bobby was bent over, naked, and about to put on his underwear. Colton screamed and covered his eyes, “Fuck! I’m blind!”
Bobby yanked his underwear up. “A little warning might be helpful.”
“I think it winked at me.” Colton was still rubbing his eyes.
Sarah shook her head, “Boys…focus. Colton has to go save some people. Bobby?
Bobby grabbed his pants, “You don’t even have to ask. Just give me two minutes to get my clothes on. Bobby…you got anything to replace Lucy?”
Colton smiled, “I might.”
***FORTY-THREE MINUTES LATER***
The SUV skidded to a stop. They were at the edge of the nature center. Big Bayou ran along the nature center, and went under a bridge Colton passed about two hundred yards back. Colton eyed the crowd of undead surrounding the building and said, “There have to be at least two hundred of these bastards.”
“Well me and Michelle need to go introduce ourselves then. Isn’t that right baby?” Bobby said as he held up the Kel-Tec KSG shotgun.
“Bobby…sometimes you worry me.” Colton laughed.
“Don’t listen to him Baby. He’s just jealous.” Bobby had an evil grin as he finished loading both of the tubes. He pumped one shell into the chamber, and then slid one more into the shotgun. Fifteen rounds total filling two tubes for the weapon. Seven buckshot shells for up close, and seven slugs for longer distance. Bobby then stuffed ammo into the front pockets of his hoodie. Slugs filled the left pocket, and buckshot into the right.
“Why the hell would I be jealous? That’s my shotgun.” Colton snapped.
“Yeah, but she likes me better.”
Colton rolled his eyes, “She? It’s a shotgun, not a girlfriend.”
“No!” Bobby said as he picked up the Glock 23 and slid the first of his several extended clips into the gun with a loud click. “It’s a three-way.”
“You’re a sick man.” Colton laughed.
“Yeah…but that’s what makes this so damn fun.” Bobby stepped out and started walking towards the crowd.
Colton shook his head and got out of the car. He pulled out another shotgun for when they got close. He swung the strap over his shoulder and then pulled his pistol. Sarah and B.J. got out of the other car. Both of them were carrying lever action rifles on a strap and pistols as they started moving towards the nature center. Colton said, “Bobby and me will take the front. You two stay far enough back to shoot the bastards with your rifles. We’ll use our shotguns when they start to get close. When we have to reload you start peppering the shit out of them with your pistols.”
“I’m not sure I can do this.” B.J. said nervously. “I’m sorry.” She looked ready to cry.
Sarah gave her a hug, “I’ll handle the shooting if you just keep reloading them for me so I don’t have to stop. Grab two more pistols and some spare magazines from the trunk. Can you do that?”
B.J. nodded, “I-I think so.”
“Okay. So we start with any of them that are at the front doors, and then we try to get them to chase us. When they attack, we just keep backing up. They’re probably going to start coming after us as soon as we start shooting. So aim for the head, and make every shot count. When they get halfway across the parking lot we get in the vehicles and back up to the bridge, and that’ll funnel those bastards all into the two lanes. Then it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.” Colton took a steadying breath.
Bobby grinned, “I’m not worried. Me and Michelle are gonna have us a grand old time.”
“Michelle? Why are you calling that shotgun Michelle?” Sarah asked.
“She’s black, beautiful, and I get a little hard just thinking about all the fun I’m gonna have with her.” Bobby laughed.
“Eww…oversharing there a bit Dad.” B.J. cringed.
Sarah shook her head, “Yeah Bobby…that is a little bit too much information.”
Bobby looked at both women and then back at the shotgun, “Okay…maybe that was a little much for your feminine sensibilities.”
“A little?” Sarah and B.J. both said in unison.
“Can we focus more on the zombies, and a little less on Coonass’s weird gun fetish?” Colton groaned.
Bobby shrugged, “I don’t know why we need to focus. Me and the girls are safe. I mean why go after us when there’s a fat little ginger to nibble on.” He then reached over and pinched Colton’s cheek, ”Is it true you gingers taste like sugar cookies?”
“Coonass!” Colton yelled, and immediately regretted it. The zombies heard his voice and some of the undead started running towards them.
“Oh shit! Here they come.” Sarah screamed and started cranking the lever back and forth. One round after another went through the gun. Each bullet found its mark in the forehead of an undead attacker.
“Damn that woman can shoot.” Bobby howled.
A giant smile spread across Colton’s face, ”I taught her everything she knows.”
Bobby just laughed, but he still kept Sarah’s secret. Sarah concentrated on each shot. She kept firing one round after another, and almost every bullet found its mark. Colton and Bobby’s jaws hung limply as they watched each headshot drop another undead enemy.
*Click*
Sarah held the gun out to B.J. and said, “Switch!” B.J. handed the woman the other rifle and then started furiously reloading. Sarah was halfway through the bullets in her second rifle when she said, “Boys…are you planning on helping?”
Bobby and Colton stopped watching the blonde with the rifle and started firing their pistols. The more they fired, the more zombies started running after them. Colton fired every round, and only hit one of the undead. Bobby snapped, “Can you please start hitting these sons of bitches?”
“Everyone’s a critic.” Colton yelled as he changed magazines.
By the time the zombies were halfway across the parking lot the pavement behind them was a mixture of brain matter and red and green blood. “Why’s that green?” Bobby asked.
“Sulfhemoglobin.” B.J. answered.
“What the hell is that?” Colton asked.
“It’s when a sulfur atom and a hemoglobin molecule get together.” B.J. answered.
“Everyone…less science, more shooting.” Sarah hissed as she blew the back of the head off of an undead grandmother of six, and then shot four of the six grandchildren. “I think we might want to get to the cars.”
“Yeah. Retreat.” Colton screamed. They all ran to the vehicles. Sarah cranked the engine, and was about to pull back when she saw that her husband’s SUV wouldn’t start. With all the bullet holes it was just a matter of time before the Explorer finally died. Colton and Bobby jumped out of the Explorer and started running towards her car. Bobby ran into the axe handle that was still sticking out of the side of the SUV, and fell hard onto the ground. Colton ran over and helped him up to his feet. Bobby’s lip was bleeding, and he leaned on Colton for the first few steps while he got his bearings back. “Bobby, jump on the hood.” Colton screamed as he crawled onto the hood himself. Bobby jumped and landed butt first beside Sarah’s husband. His butt left a huge dent in the hood. “Drive Baby!” Colton screamed.
The zombies were twenty feet away when Sarah started backing up. Bobby and Colton pulled their shotguns out and started firing at any attackers that got too close. When Sarah got back to the main road she accelerated to the other side of the bridge. Bobby and Colton reloaded as quickly as possible. Sarah stepped out, “There’s got to be at least another one hundred and fifty of them.”
Colton started walking to the center of the bridge, “Bobby, you and me will take them here. Honeypie…you think you can keep shooting them without hitting us?”
“Just remember to back straight up, and don’t move around much.” Sarah answered as she started to take aim at the first few zombies that she could see. Her first shot went through a five year old boys’ eye at two hundred yards. It blew off everything from behind his left ear. Brain and blood sprayed the other pursuers. Her next bullet went through the front two teeth of a young woman in a jogging outfit. It exploded out the back of her head, severing the brain stem, and most of the lower half of her brain. The woman’s eyes went dull, and she flopped face first on the pavement. Sarah never even lingered to see if she hit her target. Sarah was looking for her next target almost immediately. The zombies ran harder to close the distance.
*Click*
“Switch!” Sarah yelled as she handed the rifle to B.J. while Bobby and Colton were firing their pistols as they waited for the zombies to get closer.
“Next time we use hallow points. That way it cripples them up more when we miss the brain.” Bobby said as his last shot went into the cheek of an old man. It made a hole the size of a pencil eraser going in, but left a hole the size of a quarter out the back of his head.
“Next time? There better not be a next time.” Colton screamed as he fired the last round. The bullet missed the thirty-something man he was aiming for, and hit a teenage girl in the shoulder. The teen spun, and flopped on the ground. Her ponytail twirled like a streamer. Then she pushed back up onto her feet. “Damn…my sights must be off.” Colton let the empty magazine fall to the ground, and then he slammed home another full magazine.
“It’s not the sights. You just have shitty aim.” Bobby aimed for Colton’s teenager. He shot her through the forehead.
“My aim is fine…it’s the sights.” Colton screamed as he winged a postman.
Bobby finished the postman off, “If it was the sights you’d have already corrected by now. It isn’t the sights. It’s your aim.”
*Click*
“Switch!” Sarah yelled and switched rifles. B.J.’s fingers were a blur as she fed more bullets into the gun. She peeked up at the oncoming crowd. There were still eighty running towards them. They’d almost reached the edge of the bridge.
B.J. finished loading the gun and stared at crowd. Her father and Colton were doing their best, and Sarah was practically a machine with the rifle, but they weren’t going to be able to kill them all before the zombies overran them. B.J. laid the rifle and one of the pistols beside Sarah, “I’m going to help.”
“Aim high, and stay behind the boys.” Sarah said while pounding three more bullets into the foreheads of their attackers.
B.J. ran up behind her father and Colton. She tried to take careful aim. The first zombie looked like someone’s mother, and B.J. couldn’t pull the trigger. The next one seemed like someone’s grandfather. She sighed and tried to find someone else. Almost every zombie she aimed at still looked alive and healthy. She wouldn’t even point the gun at the kids.
Bobby switched to the Kel-Tec KSG shotgun. He switched the gun so that it fired from the tube filled with slugs. The first chunk of lead hammered into the closest man. The aim was low, and instead of hitting him in the head it went through the neck. It must have hit the spine because the man just collapsed. The slug kept going and hit a woman in the collarbone. The woman twisted and fell to the ground with a crunch. There was so much damage to her collarbone that her left arm was completely useless when she started to get back onto her feet.
Bobby fired Michelle again, and the woman’s head smashed in like a pumpkin. The slug kept going and removed a man’s leg at the knee, and finally found its home inside the stomach of a five year old girl. The girl fell onto her butt, and when she got back onto her feet her insides were spilling out through the wound. If she felt any pain, she didn’t show it.
Her insides were dragging behind her as she started running towards them again. Bobby was already aiming at another zombie, and Colton was fighting with a magazine that wasn’t fitting into the gun. One of the other zombies took a bullet from Sarah, and collapsed onto the kids internal organs. The little girl’s insides unraveled until they snapped tight. Her lower intestine tore, and a mixture of semi-digested food and fecal matter sprayed out. The girl kept churning her legs, and eventually the girl started dragging the body behind her.
Colton got the magazine into his gun, and shot a skinny male jogger. The first bullet hit him in the chest. The man staggered, and Colton fired a second shot. The jogger fell onto the lower intestine beside the already dead man that the girl was dragging. The little girl slowed, but kept moving. A troop of Boy Scouts ran past the girl. Bobby took aim and fired the last four slugs of in his shotgun. Two of the four were headshots. The heavy lead erased anything resembling a face. Those slugs hammered into various body parts of zombies behind the scout troop. The other two slugs were low and went through their chests. As the lead expanded, it ripped the spines out of two cherubic scouts. Their legs quit working, but their arms clawed at the street to get closer.
Bobby flipped to the other tube of buckshot shells. He started unloading shot after shot. His shoulder was already becoming bruised and sore, but he emptied the shotgun. “I need to reload.”
Colton flipped to his shotgun, “I’ve got you.” The fat redhead jiggled with every shot. B.J. kept trying to find someone in the crowd that she could shoot and not feel guilty about later. Colton fired the last shell, “I’m out. I have to reload.”
*Click*
B.J. turned around. Sarah dropped her rifle and started walking up to them. She took out both of her pistols, and then opened up on the zombies as soon as she was standing beside her husband. Both guns blasted away as fast as she could pull the trigger. Zombies dropped in heaps. Sarah emptied both magazines. She yelled, “Reloading.” Then she tucked one gun under her arm, and started replacing the magazine on the other.
Bobby racked a shell into Michelle, “This is so much better than Duck Hunt!” Bobby shredded the zombies with blast after blast of buckshot. Chunks of flesh and bone were blown off one shell at a time.
Colton joined back in and the buckshot proved much more forgiving of his aim. As the zombies got closer it was less about aim, and more about just pulling the trigger and reloading. Even when Colton missed, the buckshot still found its mark in the head of another zombie. There were so many that it was almost impossible to shoot into the crowd and not kill at least one or two.
Sarah got her pistols reloaded and she emptied both clips, killing the last of the Boy Scouts in the process. “I’m out.” Sarah searched for more magazines, but she was empty.
Colton pulled his trigger, but nothing happened. “I’m out.”
There were three zombies left. An old man, a man dressed in a forest ranger uniform, and a busty soccer mom that was still pushing her stroller for some unexplained reason. Bobby took aim at the forest ranger, “Hey Ranger Smith…this is for denying Yogi and Boo-Boo all those picanic baskets.”
The park ranger seemed insulted and snapped, “My name is Alphonse Heb-“
*Boom*
The buckshot destroyed everything above the park ranger’s jawline. His hat fluttered to the ground. Bobby aimed for the old man and yelled, “Try not to break a hip on the way to hell!” The old man flipped them the bird just as Bobby pulled the trigger. The buckshot took the man’s finger completely off, and he collapsed with three pellets from the shell buried in his brain. The soccer mom ran a little faster. Bobby sighted her in. “Holy shit…I really am a M.I.L.F. hunter.” He pulled the trigger.
*Click*
“Motherfucker. I need to reload.” Bobby started fumbling with the shells.
B.J. gasped. No one else had any ammunition, and her father wasn’t going to be able to reload in time. B.J. looked at Sarah and Colton, but they were standing too far away to toss either of them her guns. Her father started backing up, but the soccer mom was gaining. B.J. raised both guns and pulled the triggers. She didn’t stop until both magazines were empty. The soccer mom lay bleeding on the ground. Most of her shots missed completely, but she got lucky, and one of the bullets pierced the woman through the eye. The soccer mom lay on her back, blood poured from hole in the back of her skull, and ran back down the road.
B.J. ran to the side of the bridge and vomited. Sarah put a consoling arm around her and whispered, “It’s okay sweetie. You had to do it.”
“I k-k-killed her.” B.J. sobbed.
Sarah shook her head, “No sweetie…they were already dead.”
“You don’t know that!” B.J. sniffled.
“If they weren’t already dead, then they should be. They would have killed us. Now I know this sounds bad, but I need you to hold it together for just a little while longer. Can you do that?” Sarah asked.
B.J. sniffled and nodded, “I’ll try.”
That’s when they heard the baby crying. It was loud, and angry. Colton paled, “Oh God…you can’t be serious.”
Bobby finished reloading and walked over to the stroller. He took one look inside, and then looked as though he was going to vomit. “Jesus…the little bastard chewed off its own fingers.” Bobby stepped to the front of the stroller and took careful aim.
*Boom*
“Holy shit Bobby. I can’t believe you just shot a baby.” Colton had to sit down from the shock of it.
Bobby was pale. He looked barely able to stand, but he still found the strength to give Colton a weak smile, ”I’m an equal opportunity ass kicker. I’m gonna shoot every undead motherfucker regardless of age, creed, sexual preference, or religion.”
Colton sputtered, “But it’s a baby!”
Bobby shrugged, “Would it make you feel better if we just said I performed an extremely late term abortion?”
“No…damn…what the hell is wrong with you!” Colton snapped.
“What? I’m just exercising my right to be pro-choice.” Bobby’s eyes gave a hint of madness to them.
“Bobby…shut up.” Sarah’s voice didn’t even have the slightest hint of laughter. Bobby’s grin fell immediately, and his shoulders slumped as he realized he might have taken it a little too far. Pissing off Colton was one thing, but upsetting Sarah was a different thing altogether.
“Fucking asshole…I wish I knew how he made me jump out of that bus. Must be some sort of Jedi mind trick.” Jimbo grumbled as he walked along the edge of the highway. Most of his clothing was trashed. The wound in his leg from Damien hadn’t healed, and now both arms were broken. One of his feet was facing the wrong direction, and he was pretty sure there was glass in his face, but he couldn’t raise his hands up to pick it out. At least the mirror had fallen out of his ass.
He’d been walking almost two hours now, and was just now crossing the bridge over the Amite River on Louisiana 16. Jimbo walked barefoot across the combinations of pavement and metal grating that made up the bridge road. Steel girders were covered in rust, and Jimbo edged as close to them as possible to avoid being hit by another car.
Flashing lights were the first clue something was wrong. The siren made Jimbo jerk, but he kept walking. A white police car with green trim slowly drove in front and came to a stop. Jimbo had no choice but to stop. They were at the center of the bridge. The officer wore a light green uniform. He walked around and said, “You know it isn’t safe to walk this bridge. You might…” The officer took a closer look at Jimbo. “Jesus boy…sit down so I can get you an ambulance.”
Jimbo shrugged, “Won’t help.”
“Well just come sit down and let them decide on that okay.” The officer was genuinely concerned. He gestured to the green shield with the state of Louisiana on the passenger door. Jimbo flopped down beside the door. The officer got on his radio and asked for an ambulance. Then he wiped the sweat off his balding head, “It started out so nice and cool this morning, but it’s gonna be a hot one today.”
“If you say so.” Jimbo responded. He looked up at the officer. The man’s ebony skin already had a slight sheen of sweat forming on his arms and high forehead. He had a large mustache, and friendly brown eyes. The nametag on his chest said Duane Jones.
“What happened to you?” Officer Jones said.
Jimbo half-heartedly said, “I got hit by a car.”
Officer Jones shook his head, “Damn…is there anything I can do for you while we’re waiting? I have some spare water in my trunk.”
“No…thanks.” Jimbo leaned his head back against the green shield for the French Settlement police car.
Officer Jones politely asked, “Can I get your name and date of birth?”
“Jimmy Beaufort…people call me Jimbo. My date of birth is January 7th 1982.”
“Okay Jimbo. I’m Officer Duane Jones, but most people call me Ben. I’m going to step around to use my car’s computer. Just rest right here for now okay.” Officer Jones said with a gentle smile.
“Thanks Officer…Ben.” Jimbo said with a weak grin.
Officer Jones slipped into his car and checked the man. Seconds after he finished typing the information he received the returns on his computer. Officer Jones read as the man’s regional warrants popped up one after another. Then he clicked to go forward and saw the warrants from the national database. “Jesus…what kind of sicko is this guy?”
The officer asked his dispatcher for confirmation on all warrants. In the meantime ems arrived. Officer Jones got out and watched as they loaded the man into the back of the ambulance. One of the medics walked over, “We’re going to take him to Our Lady of The Lake.”
Officer Jones nodded, “Okay, I’ll be following. He’s wanted in two parishes for beastiality. What a freak!”
“Eww…can we just push him off the bridge and pretend this never happened.” The medic said. When the officer didn’t laugh he interjected, “You know I’m kidding right?”
“We’re still investigating that couple we found floating in the river last week. Right now probably isn’t the best time to be making jokes.” Officer Jones grumbled.
“Fine! No sense of humor whatsoever.” The medic snapped as he walked back to the ambulance.
Officer Jones slipped back into his car and followed the ambulance. At first it was like they were taking their time. Driving safely and carefully to their location, but then suddenly the lights and sirens went on and the ambulance started accelerating. The officer groaned, “What the hell just happened?” Then he stepped down on the gas to catch up.
Medic Tucker Alphonse Beauchamp, and medic Dale Jacques Hebert were working frantically on Jimbo. Their driver, medic Evan Rendell drove like a wild man as he weaved the boxy ambulance in and out between cars. Evan Rendell peeked back, “Tucker, Dale…what’s his status?”
Tucker and Dale were still securing the man in. Jimbo kept trying to climb out. Dale shook his head, “I’ve never seen anything like it. His heart isn’t beating, he’s got no reflexes, his pupils are completely blown. He’s got the worst case of sulfhemoglobinemia I’ve seen in twenty years. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was dead, but he’s still communicative.”
Tucker nodded, “His blood is green as old pea soup. Hell it’s so dark that it’s almost black. The officer said he had warrants for raping animals. Do you think maybe he got this from porking a pig?”
Jimbo screamed, “I never raped nothing! Baby and I were in love! All the others were consensual relationships between adults.”
“Pigs can’t give consent.” Medic Rendell giggled.
“Then how’d your momma have you!” Jimbo yelled as he strained against his restraints, but with both arms broken he couldn’t put up much resistence.
“Watch your mouth smartass!” Evan Rendell turned completely around and screamed at the man. “My mother was a saint!”
“A Saint Bernard!” Jimbo laughed.
“Oh shit! Bus!” Tucker screamed.
Evan Rendell turned back around and screamed. He jerked the steering wheel and the ambulance’s tires screamed as he got back into his lane. “Holy shit! That nearly was bad.”
“What the fuck man? You have one job! ONE! Drive the ambulance. What the hell were you doing?” Dale screamed
Evan Rendell started giggling, “I let Jesus take the wheel, but I forgot the poor bastard doesn’t have a driver’s license.”
“That’s not funny.” Tucker growled.
“It’s a little funny.” Dale chuckled.
“Did you guys see who was driving that bus?” Evan asked.
“I can’t see anything through your pumpkin head.” Tucker grumbled.
Dale ignored his best friend and coworker, “Who was it?”
“I’m not sure.” Evan answered.
“Well if you didn’t know, then why the fuck are you asking us?” Tucker spat.
“What I mean is, I don’t know who because of how they were dressed. It was a busload of clansmen. Strangest damn thing I’ve ever seen.” Evan said.
“Clansman? You mean like the KKK? I didn’t even know they still existed. Are you sure?” Tucker asked.
“White sheets and hoods...either it’s the clan, or it’s a busload of muslim women wearing those burgers.” Evan said through gritted teeth as he fought the ambulance around a corner.
“Burgers? You mean burqas.” Dale said as he rolled his eyes.
“Burqas, burgers, what does it matter?” Evan grumbled, “I’m just saying that I think that was the clan.”
“Can we focus on this man please?” Tucker snapped. “Dale…get me some epinephrine.”
“Epinephrine? Why?” Dale asked.
“His heart isn’t beating. We need to try and get it started.” Tucker answered as he pumped on Jimbo’s chest.
Jimbo spat up green frothy bile as the man kept working. “Can you stop that? I’m gonna lose my lunch at this rate.”
“Hey guys?” Evan yelled. “That police officer is turning around.”
“So what? Maybe he just decided not to arrest Doctor Doolittle here.” Tucker said as he plunged the epinephrine needle directly into Jimbo’s heart.
Its effect was instant. Jimbo felt his bones begin to shift. His teeth fell out, and he began choking on them. His face ached as he felt the flesh pushing out the glass. Tucker and Dale watched in horror as the man’s face elongated, and his hair tore away exposing two furry wolf ears underneath.
“Oh shit” Tucker and Dale both screamed.
“What is it now?” Evan turned his head to see what the two men were screaming about.
A clawed hand shot up. The snapped restraint was dangling off Jimbo’s arm. The skin was falling off, showing the fur underneath. Two of the clawed fingers rammed through both Evan’s nostrils, and imbedded themselves all the way up into the medic’s brain. Jimbo pulled his arm back, and yanked Evan out of the driver’s seat. With no one left to drive, the ambulance veered and swerved before dipping into a drainage ditch. The ambulance was still doing seventy when it hit a steel drain pipe that ran under a driveway. The ambulance stopped immediately, but the contents inside kept going. Tucker was thrown forward through the windshield. He struck a wood fence, and one of the wooden slats went through his mouth. It anchored him down. His body’s momentum carried him over the fence. The point of the slat stuck out through the bottom of his jaw line and then back into his throat. His body tried to keep going, and it ripped away from the neck and rolled another twenty feet.
Dale hit the driver seat and felt shoulder pop out of joint, and then his neck snapped and he didn’t feel anything at all. Dale gasped like a fish out of water as he tried to will air into lungs that no longer responded to command. When his vision refocused, the crippled man screamed. Jimbo wasn’t the man they were working on. He was eight foot tall, and covered in fur, fangs and claws. Jimbo was chewing on Evan’s soft belly. Each bite tore out a mouthful of the man’s innards. Evan’s eyes were already dull.
Dale was suffocating. He fought to get even a little breath, but nothing came. Instead all he could do was lay there. Strangely he felt himself become calm. Dale knew this was in response to lack of oxygen. His training as a medic let him recognize all the symptoms of imminent death from suffocation. Knowledge had always comforted him before, but now it was taunting him. He saw everything he needed to save his own life dangling around him, and he couldn’t move to help himself. All he could do was lay there and wait to eventually black out from lack of oxygen.
Jimbo ate Evan slowly while he waited to heal. He could feel his shoulders and arms knitting back together. He howled in agony when his foot turned itself back around until it was facing the correct direction. With every bite he got healthier. When he finished, Jimbo stretched out. His furry head bumped the ceiling of the ambulance. Jimbo roared and pounded the ceiling of the ambulance with his arm. It ripped through the thin metal like paper, but as Jimbo’s arm ripped through it the metal cut deep into the flesh. Jimbo jerked his arm away from the sudden pain, and the metal stripped most of the flesh and muscle from the forearm. Green blood flowed like water from Jimbo’s degloved forearm.
The werewolf looked over to Dale, and started eating without any hesitation. With every bite the muscle and flesh regrew. By the time he swallowed Dale’s head, the arm was completely healed. Jimbo looked up at the shredded roof, and then turned around in the ambulance. It wasn’t easy. He was so large that every movement knocked over something. Once he was turned around Jimbo opened the back doors and ran off with a howl.
“Motherfucker!” Elliot Spenser jerked the wheel on the bus to avoid the ambulance swerving in and out of traffic. “Watch where you’re going you fucking Jew!”
“How’d you know he was a Jew?” Cletus Canker asked from the seat behind Spenser.
“No self-respecting white man would drive like that. It must be a jew, or a mulatto.” Elliot said through gritted teeth. “Wooo-shit! This hood is hotter than hell. We couldn’t rent a bus that had air conditioning?”
“No…most of the buses won’t rent to our kind.” Cletus grumbled.
“Ain’t that a son of a bitch? What kind of world are we living in when a self-respecting group of white men can’t rent a halfway decent bus. You know we wouldn’t have ever had this problem if someone would have slapped that bitch Rosa Parks all the way back to the back of the bus where she belonged.”
“White power brother!” Cletus screamed.
“White power!” Elliot Spenser responded.
At that point forty hooded clansman all screamed, “White power!”
The busload of clansmen travelling towards New Orleans to protest and combat the “Chocolate City” and its anti-white elements that were repressing their white brothers. They were all members of the Devotedly United Men Bolstering a Free United Confederate Klan of the South in good standing. Most of the men were members since their fathers brought them in for their first slightly homoerotic meeting. They all wore the D.U.M.B.F.U.C.K.S. insignia on their Klan robes proudly just as their fathers had, and their grandfathers before them. The only new member on this trip was Clovis Cooper, and he was only there because his father made him come.
“Dad…I really don’t want to be here.” Clovis said. He was fifteen, and mortified by the whole thing.
Cleophas snapped, “Boy…that Wetback loving sow you call a mother said I had to start spending some quality time with you. I don’t know why that bitch feels the need to run her mouth to me. Shit, I thought I was free of that crap when she left me for Pedro.”
“His name is Ramiro, and he’s a pretty nice guy.” Clovis groaned.
“Shhh….the last thing I want people to hear is my son is being raised by a taco vender.” Cleophas snapped.
“He’s a lawyer dad…not a taco vender.” Clovis mumbled.
“Shit…that’s even worse. That means he’s part Jew. Nothing worse than a Jewish Wetback…except maybe one of those niggeroos.” Cleophas spat.
“N…n…?”Clovis couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Okay…I know I’m going to regret this, but what the hell is that thing you just said.”
Cleophas grinned, “Niggeroos…that’s a Jewish Negro. Like that one-eyed coon Sammy Davis Jr.”
“Jesus Dad! Don’t say stuff like that.” Clovis sputtered.
“What? Are you offended by the truth?” Cleophas asked his son.
“Dad…I’m stuck on a bus with a bunch of hate mongers wearing matching outfits that have dumb fucks spelled on them. Yeah…I think I’ve gone way past offended.” Clovis whispered.
Cleophas looked down at the insignia and read it, “I don’t see anything.”
“Dad…just remove the periods between the letters.” Clovis groaned.
“But the periods tell everyone that the letter is part of our…damn! No wonder all those college kids were laughing last month.” Cleophas shook his head. When he saw his son lean back with a cocky look of self-satisfaction Cleophas grumbled, “Smartass kid thinks he knows every goddamn thing!”
“Not everything, but I do know I’m stuck on a bus with a bunch of morons.” Clovis said with an eye roll that immediately reminded Cleophas of his ex-wife.
“Son…I’ve been in the Klan for almost my entire life. There’s a noble and honorable history of our organization.”
“No Dad…there isn’t.”
“Shut up boy and listen.” Cleophas snapped. “I’m trying to prepare you for the day when the Blacks takeover. They are a sneaky race boy. They’ll act nice and helpful, but the next thing you know they’re telling you how good your hair smells. After that they’re raping you, and trying to put a baby in your butt.”
“Dad…seriously? Black people aren’t running around trying to rape people and put babies in their butts. It doesn’t even work that way.”
Cleophas growled, “Boy I know it doesn’t work that way! I put the bun in your mamma’s oven didn’t I. What I’m saying is that the blacks are so stupid and horny that they’re just running around trying to fuck anything that moves. It’s our own fault really. We bred those sons of bitches like cattle. So those big bucks have got that evillution stuff going for them. We had the big strong ones breeding right and left to make them strong. That’s why all the best athletes are black. It’s also why they’re so sex crazy. They just don’t know any better. They just need to spread their seed boy…and it doesn’t matter where they cast it.”
Clovis responded, “It’s evolution, and it isn’t why all the best athletes are black. There are great athletes from all races. Jesus Dad…you sound like you just came out of the eighteen hundreds.”
Cleophas muttered to himself and then said, “You just don’t know the real history. All your knowledge came from sissy textbooks that lie about the influence of the white race.” Then Cleophas yelled to their leader Elliot Spenser, “Grand Cyclops Spenser…can you please explain to my son the beautiful history of the white race?”
Elliot Spenser nodded and slipped off his hood, “It’s a long and glorious history, but I’ll keep it to the highlights. Jesus came down a white, blue-eyed, blonde-haired savior to the world, but the sand niggers and the Jews killed him because no minority can accept the kind and benevolent rule of a white master. Two hundred years later George Washington fought off the Zionist regime of King Henry, and the dirty commie bastards he sent over to take away our freedom. Then four hundred and thirty years later Abraham Lincoln and the north became jealous of the loving and benevolent relationship plantation owners had with their slaves. He sent the dirty Japs, and had help from the towelheads and the fucking frenchies. The North outnumbered our brave men three hundred to one, but we still nearly defeated those evil bastards. Since then we’ve been subject to plots from the blacks, the queers, the homosexuals, the Jews, the fags, the wetbacks, Al Quaida, and those sneaky gays.”
“That’s all lies.” Clovis snapped.
“As the white Jew hating God Jesus is my witness…every bit of it is true.” The Grand Cyclops responded. “Cletus…in you capacity as the Grand Magi can you tell him more about it?”
Cletus nodded, and took off his hood, “Abraham Lincoln had a change of heart, and the day before he was gonna repeal the law freeing the slaves the north assassinated him like the dirty cowards they are. Then they blamed that poor southern boy Lee Harvey Oswald who never did anything to anybody. They covered it all up. Then when the Japs bombed Hiroshima at the battle of the bulge, it was us that came and saved the day, but do we get any credit for killing that evil Nazi bastard Winston Churchill by bombing the shit out of Moscow? Hell no they don’t give us credit. Instead they blame everything on the white man. They blame slavery on the white man. The collapse of the dollar gets blamed on the white man. The death of the dinosaurs was blamed on us. Shit…they even blamed global warming on us, and we all know that is just a Zionist plot.”
Clovis was going to argue, but the Grand Cyclops Elliot Spenser suddenly put on the brakes and yelled, “What in the hell is a perfectly good white baby doing on the side of the road? Cletus…go out and pick that little kid up.”
Cletus ran out and scooped up Dootsie, “There now my little white brother. Your uncle Cletus has you. Ow! Fucker! Stop biting me.”
“Bring that kid in here.” Elliot yelled.
Cletus carried the baby into the bus, “He’s a biting son of a bitch...so watch your fingers.”
“What is this world coming to when someone leaves a perfectly good white baby on the side of the road? A nigger baby maybe, but a white baby?” Clovis shook his head in disappointment. “White brothers…we need to look after our weaker white brothers like this baby here. White Power!”
“White Power!” The rest of the klan cheered on.
Elliot stepped back on the gas. “Someday we’ll prove to the world that the white race is the true master race. We’ll make the world a better place for our future children like this baby here! White Power!”
“White Power!” The entire group except for Clovis chanted.
“Give me a White Power brother Cleophas!” Elliot yelled.
“White Power!” Cleophas screamed
“How about you brother Cletus?” Elliot screamed.
“White Power Grand Cyclops!” Cletus screamed back.
“God diddly Damn! I feel like a celebratory cigar. Cletus…light my cigar! I’m feeling like today is the first day of our ascent to true white power!” Elliot laughed.
“You people are crazy!” Clovis screamed.
“Boy…don’t insult the Grand Cyclops.” Cleophas slapped the back of his son’s head. “Men like our Grand Cyclops here helped build this country, and it’ll be men like our Grand Cyclops that see us through the hard times brought on by that darkie half-spook president. WHITE POWER!”
The rest of the Klan screamed, “White power!”
Clovis yelled, “What is wrong with you people?”
Elliot Spenser looked at the teen in his mirror as he puffed away on his newly lit cigar. With his sandy blonde hair and blue eyes he was the spitting image of his father. That resemblance only made their different outlooks more irritating to the fat Grand Cyclops. He scratched at his head, and then straightened the comb over of his thinning hair before bellowing, “What’s wrong with us? What’s wrong with you? We’re fighting for the great white race against people that want to drag us down with their hippity-hop music, and their Flaaaaaaaaaaavor Flaaaaaaaaav’s. We’re trying to protect ourselves from the horny negro, the greedy Jew, the lazy Mexican, and those sneaky Asians. We’re all that stands between you and a pack of wild niggers raping your momma and then trying to put a baby in your butt. Don’t you forget that boy!”
“None of that is true.” Clovis groaned and beat his head against the bus seat in front of him.
Elliot snapped, “Oh, so there’s no one named Flavor Flav?”
“Of course there’s a Flavor Flav.” Clovis sighed.
“Well then…I proved my point.” Elliot grinned.
Clovis opened his mouth to argue, but Cletus Canker screamed, “Ouch! Fat little bastard keeps biting me.”
Elliot eyed the man, “Don’t be a pussy. Besides, the kid is probably just mad because it’s naptime.” Then Elliot bellowed, “Alright boys, join in if you know it, and we’ll sing our little Aryan brother to sleep. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
The Grand Cyclops cleared his throat and began again. This time everyone except for Clovis and the baby sang:
When Sunday comes, and the sun goes down,
Turn that frown upside down,
Cause we’re going out to have a grand old time!
I’ll bring the rope, you bring the dope,
Get a big tall tree, and we can hope,
For the day that this isn’t a crime!
Oh the Lord loves a hanging, that’s why he gives blacks necks.
Let them take one last look around, and dangle their feet right off the ground.
The Lord loves a hanging…that’s why he gives blacks necks.
Oh Darky loves to walk the streets,
Dancing and boogeying to the beat,
But he’ll hide his ass on Sunday you know!
Cause if he don’t we’ll drag him out,
Slap his face and make him pout,
Then we’ll string him up and away we’ll go!
Oh the Lord loves a hanging, that’s why he gives blacks necks.
Let them take one last look around, and dangle their feet right off the ground.
The Lord loves a hanging…that’s why he gives blacks necks.
The Klansmen were stomping their feet to the beat. Some of the men in the back actually stood up and started dancing. They sung it three times, and Clovis watched in horror as the men started singing the song for the third time in the round. His own father was snapping his fingers and singing with a smile stretched tight across his face that somehow only made him look angrier. When they finished the men were practically giddy.
“Cletus…I’m feeling so good that this cigar just isn’t going to cut it.” Elliot then tossed the cigar out the window. He reached into his robe and pulled out a much larger cigar, “I think it’s time for one of the good ones. Light me up Brother Cletus.”
There was whooping and hollering in celebration of their Grand Cyclops’ good mood. Cletus pulled out the lighter and held it towards his leader. He was having difficulty getting the lighter high enough while still holding the baby the way he was. So Cletus adjusted Dootsie, pointing the child’s butt at the Grand Cyclops. They were just about to drive onto a rusted steel bridge when some of the methane that had been building in Dootsie’s decomposing body escaped. It blew out like a flame, lighting the cigar.
“Damn…kids got talent.” Elliot laughed. “Now, point that little shit away from me bef-“
The methane ignited Dootsie’s diaper. The diaper started burning the baby. Dootsie screamed, and methane escaped his mouth. It ignited and Cletus got a face full of flames. Cletus fell backwards, and slammed against the bus doors. Fire was coming out from the mouth and anus of the baby. Cletus covered the baby’s head and butt with his gloved hands to stop the burning. Instead he only succeeded in sealing both ends. The fire then ignited all the methane in Dootsie’s stomach and intestines which resulted in a very sudden and drastic change in Dootsie’s condition.
*BOOM*
Bits of Dootsie splattered everywhere. The entire top half of Cletus was blown into large meaty chunks from the “Baby Bomb”. The glass on the bus doors was blown out. The Klansmen screamed in terror as they watched part of Cletus’s face slowly slide down the windshield. The bus careened into the rusted metal bridge frame and then bounced back across the road into the other side of the bridge frame. The bus was accelerating as it bounced back and forth against the sides of the bridge like a ping pong ball. Elliot was slumped over the steering wheel twitching with Dootsie’s diaper safety pin embedded through his forehead and into the frontal lobe of his brain.
The Klansmen were so focused on their Grande Cyclops that they didn’t see an eighteen wheeler locking up its wheels to try and avoid crashing into the bus. The eighteen wheeler and bus slammed into one another at the center of the bridge. The trucker was killed instantly. The impact turned the bus over onto its side, and slid into the trailer holding diesel fuel. The bus cut a huge gash in the trailer, and diesel fuel started pouring into the bus. Klansmen were strewn all through the bus. Some with broken legs, some had broken arms. Most had bruises and cuts.
The men slowly untangled one another. Cleophas dusted himself off and picked up his son, “You alright boy?”
“Yeah.” Clovis responded.
The Klansmen that could move tried to open the back door of the bus, but it was blocked by the rear tire of the eighteen-wheeler. They tried to climb out through the windows, but they couldn’t figure out how to support themselves long enough using the seats to reach the open windows. After multiple attempts they finally gave up and sat down in the rising puddle of diesel fuel.
Boaters that saw the accident drove under the bridge to get a much better look at the accident. One boat after another stopped at the bridge to see the carnage. At least one person in each of the four boats was on their cell calling 9-1-1 to get the men help.
A few minutes later a police cruiser arrived. The Klansmen cheered until Duane Jones stepped out. Then they all groaned in disappointment. Officer Jones glanced at the eighteen-wheeler, and realized immediately that the trucker was dead. He then moved to the bus to check on the survivors.
“Is everyone okay?” Officer Jones asked.
“Go away Nigger…we’ll wait for a white God-fearing policemen.” Cleophas screamed.
Officer Jones rolled his eyes and muttered, “Gonna be one of those days. Lord…give me the strength not to shoot these morons.” Then the officer moved over to the bus. He could smell the diesel. He then walked over to the edge of the bridge, “You people get out of here!”
“Oh hell no! This is going on my Youtube page.” One of the boaters grinned as he moved his camera phone around to get Officer Jones lined up in the shot.
“Yeah, and I’m adding this to my blog.” Another boater yelled.
“Shit I don’t have nothing fancy like that. I just like seeing car accidents.” A fisherman grinned up with his three front teeth. The others just ignored the officer completely.
“Yeah, definitely gonna be one of those days.” Officer Jones groaned. He scaled his way up the side of the bus and then laid down so that he could reach into one of the open windows. He saw all the men in sheets, and hesitated for a moment before stretching his arm inside as far as it would go, “Okay…someone give me their hand and we can start pulling you…gentlemen…out of this bus.”
“Go back to Africa you spear chucking bastard!” Cleophas yelled.
The others just screamed in unison, “White Power!”
“But you’re going to die if you stay in there!” Officer Jones growled.
“White Power!” They all screamed in unison.
Officer Jones was going to give up completely when Clovis’s hand gripped his, “Get me the fuck away from these crazy fuckers.”
Officer Jones pulled Clovis out before his father could react. Once Clovis was safely out, his father started screaming, “I’ll disown you. No son of mine is gonna pick a nigger over his white brothers. You get back in this bus right now Clovis so I can beat your ass!”
Clovis and Officer Jones smelled smoke, and looked up. The cab of the eighteen-wheeler was on fire. They realized immediately they were about to run out of time. Clovis and Officer Jones scrambled off the bus and away from the vehicles. They just passed the police cruiser when the fire from the cab ignited the diesel fuel. The fuel exploded in a giant fireball. Clovis could hear his father and his father’s friends screaming as they burned alive. A fiery wave of diesel fuel poured out and became a waterfall of flames onto the boaters below. They didn’t have time to get out of the way. The flaming diesel fuel filled their boats, and burned them to melted husks that eventually sank into the water.
“Oh God.” Clovis gasped with tears running down his face. “They’re all dead.”
Officer Jones pulled the crying teen into his arms for a supportive hug, “It’s okay. We’ll get you out of here as soon as possible.”
“Thank you.” Clovis said as he tried to ignore the smell of burning flesh.
“I’m Officer Duane Jones, but most people call me Ben. Is there someone I can call for you.”
“My mom…and thank you. You’re being really nice considering the circumstances.”
Officer Jones smiled, “I’m just a helpful kind of guy.”
“Well thank you.” Clovis said.
“No problem…man your hair smells good.”
Clovis’ eyes snapped open, “W-w-what?”
“I said man your hair smells ggglurghle.” Officer Jones’ body went limp and dragged Clovis to the ground. When Clovis looked up to look the officer’s face, it was missing. All that remained was some torn strips of flesh where the officer’s head and neck used to be. Clovis locked on the headless body and began screaming. If he’d had looked up towards the buses he might have caught a glimpse of a furry Jimbo leaping over the flames on his way to New Orleans. He might have seen Officer Jones shocked face blinking, and his mouth moving as he tried to figure out what just happened with the last few seconds of his life. Instead he just lay there holding the headless body screaming at the bloody hole where a man’s head should have been. He was screaming even as a puddle of flaming diesel edged closer and closer. He was screaming when the first flames licked at his skin, and then he wasn’t…eventually.
“Well…who wants to go first?” B.J.’s voice shuddered as she stared at the piles of bodies. “We can’t drive across.”
“I’ll go, but I need to reload Michelle first.” Bobby walked back to the car. When he got next to Sarah he stopped and looked at her with sad puppy dog eyes, “I’m sorry about earlier. Sometimes my mouth gets started before my brain has a chance to catch up.”
“Bobby…” Sarah started to speak, but the man just turned and walked to the car. He opened the door and dug out more shotgun shells. He filled both tubes with buckshot, and then started walking back past everyone towards the piles of bodies.
He was ten foot away when he stopped. “Sarah…can you reload that rifle? I’d feel a lot better if I had you ready to take out anything that jumps out.”
Sarah nodded and started to say that she would when Colton said, “I’ll grab some more ammo, and I’ll shoot any of them that even so much as twitch.”
Bobby shook his head, “Colt…I’d love to have you back me in a fight, but you can’t shoot for shit. I’m more afraid of your bad aim than I am afraid of the zombies.”
“Coonass…now isn’t the time to be giving me shit. I showed her how to shoot. So why have the student when you can have the master.” Colton picked up some empty magazines and took them back to reload. As he was reloading his shotgun and pistols Bobby looked at Sarah with pleading eyes.
Sarah winked and nodded, “B.J. you and me need to reload too. We’re going to have to help out at the Nature Center when we get through all this. I’m assuming they all followed us here, but we probably shouldn’t assume.” Both women walked back and reloaded. When they were all reloaded Sarah waited until her husband took his spot to watch out for his friend when Bobby walked through the bodies. Sarah set up a little behind him so that he wouldn’t actually see her scanning the area with her rifle.
Bobby popped his neck to relieve tension. “Daddy…be careful.” B.J. begged.
Her father walked over to her and gave her a long fatherly hug before laughing, “I haven’t gotten this far in life by being careful…no sense in starting now.” The man smiled and started walking towards the carnage. He stayed near the edge of the bridge so that the zombies could only really come at him from one side just in case one of the undead was particularly sneaky.
Bobby stepped over a grandmother, then tiptoed his way through what looked like a family of four. He was careful to take slow, careful steps between bodies. With each move, Bobby was careful to poke the body before stepping over it, and then he kept Michelle pointed at the head as he stepped over. It took him two minutes to walk twenty feet, but he kept moving.
He was three-quarters of the way across the bridge when he heard something scuff the pavement. Bobby’s throat tightened and he froze. His panicked blue eyes scanned across the bodies, but they were in such tangled piles that he couldn’t tell if any of them actually moved, or if it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He took another step, and heard a shoe sliding along the pavement. Bobby’s whole body locked up. Something was definitely moving.
“Sarah…do you see anything?” Bobby asked nervously.
“No.” Sarah responded as she swept back and forth across the bridge with her eyes.
Bobby swallowed hard, “Something’s moving, but I can’t see it. Colton? B.J.? Either of you see anything?”
The short redhead, and the beautiful young woman frantically scanned the piles of bodies before both shaking their heads. Bobby could still hear something scraping and clawing to get closer, but he didn’t see a hand move, or even a leg shift. Bobby raised Michelle up and waited.
A fat old man jerked and slipped down one of the mounds of people. Bobby, Colton, and Sarah all fired at once. Sarah’s bullet took the top of the man’s head off, Bobby’s buckshot made the man look like ground hamburger, and Colton’s bullet buried into the hip of a slightly hefty woman wearing a sun dress. Colton’s shot was so badly off target that everyone turned to the short redhead in disbelief. Colton turned red with embarrassment and snapped, “What? A man can’t miss once? Does every shot have to be perfect?”
They were all so distracted by the short man that no one noticed the young woman jerk to her feet and break into a run at Bobby. Bobby saw her in the corner of his eye and screamed, “Oh shit!” He wasn’t going to be able to turn around fast enough to shoot the girl. None of them were going to be able to shoot her before she reached him and Bobby new it. Even Sarah had lowered her rifle while she’d been listening to her husband, and now it was too late to aim and shoot with any real accuracy. Bobby was as good as dead and he knew it.
Then the girl’s lower intestine snapped tight like a dog’s leash. She lunged and clawed at the air, but most of her innards were pinned down under other bodies. She was ten feet away, and couldn’t get any closer. Bobby had to sit down on the bridge’s guardrail to regain his composure, “Oh fuck…I nearly shit myself.” He could feel his heart pounding in his throat, and his hands were shaking so badly that he had to set Michelle down.
“I’ve got this one.” Colton took careful aim, and jerked the trigger back. He was aiming for the girl’s left temple. He missed and hit a tree far off in the distance. His second shot hit the girl in the shoulder and knocked her down.
“You big meanie!” The little girl screamed as she rose back to her feet. “I wasn’t doing anything to you!”
Colton fired three more shots. One hit the girl in the leg, and earned Colton a mean look from the kid. The other two completely missed and went off into the distance. “Fuck!” Colton screamed. He jerked the trigger two more times. One knocked off one of the girl’s pigtails, and the other just missed everything.
Bobby groaned and looked at his friend, “Come on…just give it up. Let Sarah shoot the kid, or I will. Know when it’s time to cut your losses.”
Colton growled and yanked the trigger back three more times. Now it was a matter of pride, but instead of calming down and taking a careful shot, Colton was firing wildly in frustration. The first two actually hit the girl. One bullet hit her in the leg, and the other bullet severed the lower intestine. Sarah started taking aim as Colton’s third bullet ricocheted off the guardrail and bounced back. The bullet struck Bobby’s other earlobe. Bobby yelped in pain and jerked away. Unfortunately he had nowhere to go, and Bobby ended up falling over the bridge guardrail screaming, “OH SHIT!”
Bobby dropped twenty feet into the water below. He belly-flopped into the water, and every bit of air was knocked out of him. The undead girl ran and swan dived off the side after him. Sarah pulled the trigger just before the girl disappeared over the guardrail. “Bobby!” Colton screamed.
B.J. scrambled to the edge of the guardrail and looked down. The little girl was floating face down on top of the water. Bobby was nowhere to be seen. “Daddy!” She screamed. Tears ran down her face. Colton ran up beside her and screamed for the man as well.
“I’ll run around and try and pull him out. You stay up here and try to find him.” Colton said. B.J. nodded, and they were just about to carry out the little redhead’s plan, when Sarah leapt over the guardrail and dove into the water. Colton’s eyes were the size of dinner plates as he watched his wife leap fearlessly between himself and B.J. A blur of blonde hair fluttered as Sarah splashed into the water.
Seconds later Sarah pulled an unconscious Bobby up out of the water and dragged him to the water’s edge. “Colton? B.J.? I need some help…Bobby’s heavier than he looks.” Colton and B.J. ran around the bridge and helped Sarah pull the man up to safety. Sarah turned the man onto his back and began CPR. Eventually Bobby started coughing up water, and Sarah turned him onto his side. “He’s going to be okay.”
Colton wrapped his arms around his wife, “Baby that was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen…but don’t ever do that again!” Colton kissed his wife and hugged her.
B.J. had her arms around her father, and was hugging him so hard that he could barely breathe. “Daddy, you had us so scared.”
Bobby gasped and kept spitting up water for another few minutes before he was finally able to hug his daughter back. “I’m like a cockroach. You just can’t kill me.”
“Thank God for that.” B.J. laughed and gave her father a kiss on the cheek.
Bobby sat up, and then had to get his daughter and Sarah to help him back to his feet. “Yeah, like I said. You just can’t kill me.” Then Bobby looked at his friend and teased, “But my best friend can apparently shoot off one of my ears!”
Colton smiled back at his friend. “Oh don’t be a baby…it’s just an earlobe.”
“You know I should be pissed.” Bobby grinned.
“Yeah…you probably should.” Colton grinned back.
Bobby stretched, “Well…I don’t know about the rest of you, but if I remember correctly there are some people that need our help on the other side of that bridge.”
Sarah leaned over to give Bobby a hug, “You’re half-crazy…you know that right?”
“Only half?” Bobby laughed as he started back towards the bridge, “I must be slipping then.”
Colton followed up after him, “You know when this started I thought you were full of shit about the werewolf thing.”
“And now?” Bobby asked.
Colton laughed, “I’m still hoping that you’re full of shit, but after everything that’s happened…I’m not ruling out the possibility.”
Bobby laughed, “For the record…I’m kind of hoping I was wrong about the whole werewolf thing myself. I keep trying to convince myself that I just panicked. I keep trying to say it was one of these zombies.”
Colton shook his head, “You keep trying, but it isn’t working is it.”
“Not even a little.” Bobby sighed, “So far...none of these zombies started sprouting fur and regrowing a head. To be honest…I’ll be real happy if I never see another one of those furry bastards. As messed up as these zombies are…at least I can kill them. I’m not so sure that there’s anything we could do to stop a werewolf.”
“What about the silver?” Colton asked.
“That’s just a wild guess. It might work, or it might just piss them off.” Bobby kept walking. When they reached the bridge he stopped and laughed, “Déjà vu.”
“No…this time we’re all going over together.” Colton said as he scooped up he holstered his pistol and scooped up his shotgun. “I’ll take the lead. My aim is shitty, but I’m also a small target.”
“With that fat ginger ass…you’re not really a small target. You’re more of a short round target.” Bobby grinned.
Colton looked back to his wife, “Honeypie?”
“Yes Sweetie?” Sarah answered.
“The next time Bobby goes for a swim…could you let him soak a little bit longer?” Colton gave a bit toothy grin as he started leading them across. Colton moved carefully, but quickly, and it wasn’t long before they reached Bobby’s shotgun Michelle.
Bobby lifted Michelle up and gave the barrel a kiss, “Oh baby I missed you. Did you miss me? Yes you did…yes you did.”
Colton rolled his eyes, “Would you like to step behind some trees for a little bit of private time with that shotgun?”
Bobby glared at his friend and said, “I’m sorry, but did you say something. I can’t couldn’t hear you because some fat assed ginger midget shot me in the ear.”
Sarah sighed, “Boys…focus.”
B.J. laughed and then whispered into Sarah’s ear, “Are they always like this when I’m not around?”
“No…usually they’re worse.” Sarah giggled.
Colton led them over the bridge, and then they weaved in and out through the bodies all the way back to the parking lot. When they got there the door was broken in. “Oh shit…we’re too late.”
“I don’t accept that.” Colton growled as he waddled towards the walkway that led to the front door. Bobby followed him through the entrance. Colton moved carefully, “Is everyone okay?”
“Help! We’re back here!” A woman screamed.
Colton shuffled through the nature center towards the woman’s voice. They moved through a room that had a podium facing a bunch of plastic blue chairs with metal legs. The front of the room was designed to look like a cabin porch. It had fish nets, a rocking chair, a jug, and the top half of a fifty year old woman.
“Jesus.” Bobby shook his head. “They must have torn her apart using their retard strength.”
Colton snapped, “You’re not gonna start that up again are you?”
“So you’re saying they don’t have retard strength?” Bobby asked.
“Coonass…being strong doesn’t make you retarded, and being retarded doesn’t make you strong. Now will you drop this?” Colton said through gritted teeth.
“Is it irritating you?” Bobby asked.
“It’s irritating the shit out of me.” Colton snapped.
Bobby grinned, “I’ll take it under advisement then. Now be careful Colt…wouldn’t want those retarded zombies to get ahold of you with their retard strength and retard ways. I mean you’re already a fat midget ginger. You don’t want to add retarded to that.”
Colton growled and plodded towards the screams. They found bodies torn open and gutted. Some of them were pinned onto the walls. One was imbedded into the wall. Blood splattered on the walls, and covered the floor so deeply that every step splashed. They were almost back to the aquarium room. “Help me! Someone help me please!”
Colton reached the entrance to the aquarium room. He put his back to the wall and held up three fingers, then two, and finally one finger before spinning around to face whatever was inside the room. “Alright get your ass on the ground!” Colton screamed.
“Oh help me! Won’t someone help me!” The young woman said. She had black hair, cold gray eyes, and full pouty lips covered in blood. The woman was standing over the mostly eaten body of Roger Cobb. She was standing in the center of the room with a wicked smile on her face surrounded by twenty of her fellow zombies.
“Trap!” Colton screamed as he turned and ran.
“Thank you Captain Obvious!” Bobby bellowed as he followed Sarah and B.J. on a mad scramble towards the front door of the Nature Center.
Colton waddled as quickly as he could after Bobby and the girls. He couldn’t take aim, and so he just pointed the barrel behind him and fired wildly. Luckily for him it was cramped quarters, so most of his shots hit something. The buckshot hit arms, legs, and pretty much everything else. Colton fired until he didn’t have any shells left. Three of the zombies were took buckshot to the head and fell lifeless to the ground. Most of the zombies were crippled up by the shotgun blasts. It didn’t stop them, but it slowed them down enough for Colton to stay ahead of the onrushing horde.
“Run faster!” Bobby screamed back to his redheaded friend.
“Fuck you Coonass! I’m going as fast as my legs will take me.” Colton panted. He already knew that he wouldn’t be able to run all the way back to the car. He wouldn’t be able to run the length of the parking lot. He’d be lucky if he was still running through the wooden walkway that led out to the parking lot. The more he thought about it the slower he ran.
Bobby glanced over his shoulder, and saw the zombies catching up to Colton. “Aw shit.” Bobby grunted as he changed directions and ran back towards Colton. Bobby raised Michelle and started firing, “Run Fatboy! Run!” Bobby ran past Colton, he went back through the entrance. He ran straight for the woman that had lured them into the aquarium room earlier, and at the absolute last second Bobby veered off to the right. He ran around the outside edge of the lobby. “Come on you undead fuckers! Why eat a fat little Ginger when you can have a big ole bite of some grade A Coonass!”
“Get him!” The young woman screamed. The other zombies turned and ran after Bobby.
“Bobby!” Colton yelled.
“Run you fat fuck!” Bobby screeched as he disappeared down the hallway.
Colton hesitated for a moment, and then started running towards Sarah and B.J. “Go-go-go!” He barked.
“Where’s my Dad?” B.J. asked.
“He ran back inside. Now let’s get going because he didn’t buy us much time.” Colton ordered.
“Daddy!” B.J. wailed.
Sarah took her by the arm and pulled, “We have to go. There isn’t anything we can do now.”
All three ran as hard and fast as their legs would carry them through the parking lot. They could hear shotgun blasts behind them. They reached the road and started running back to the car. Colton’s side was killing him. He just couldn’t run the entire length, but he still kept pushing himself. He was halfway down the road, and could see the car on the other side of the bridge when his legs gave out from under him. He wanted to run, but his legs absolutely refused to move anymore.
Sarah and B.J. ran back and helped him to his feet. “Come on…we’re not going to lose you too.”
Colton nodded and let both women help him. They couldn’t run and help him, but they could at least keep going. There were more shotgun blasts. With each shot Colton and the two women jerked. Each shot meant Bobby was still alive, but it also meant he was that much closer to running out of shells. No one said anything, but they all were counting.
*Bang*
Eleven. Four left.
*Bang*
Twelve. Three left.
*Bang*
Thirteen. Two left.
*Bang*
Fourteen. Colton started crying. Bobby was empty unless he put one in the chamber at the start.
*Bang*
Fifteen. Bobby was completely out of shotgun ammo. Colton’s crying turned to sobbing, but he wasn’t the only one. Sarah and B.J. both stopped and began crying. Tears ran freely down their faces. None of them could keep going. It was like they’d all been collectively kicked in the gut.
“He really was my best friend.” Colton sniffled.
“Oh Daddy…why.” B.J. was crying so hard that she had to lean on Colton to keep from falling over. Sarah couldn’t even form words. She just held on to her husband and B.J. and tried to keep from drowning in grief. Tears ran down her face and dripped onto the top of her husband’s head. They were inconsolable. It was the sound of footsteps coming their way that snapped them out of their grief.
They looked towards the tree line, but it was so dense they couldn’t see what was coming. All three drew their weapons. Even B.J. found herself completely at ease with the thought of killing whatever came running out from the tree line. There were two sets of feet running directly for them. Sarah tracked the sound with her ears. Colton pointed his shotgun where he thought his wife was aiming, and then remembered his shotgun was empty. Colton cursed and switched to his pistol.
A bush shook, and Sarah tightened her finger on the trigger. The woman that had lured them all the way back into aquarium room came running out right at Sarah. A vicious smile slithered across Sarah’s face. All she could think of was making this woman suffer like she and her friends had probably made Bobby suffer. Instead of aiming for the woman’s forehead, Sarah aimed for the spot just below the woman’s chin. The trigger was squeezed, and Sarah exhaled as she watched for the bullet to enter through the throat and exit out the back of the neck…severing the spine so that the woman would just have to lay there and suffer.
To say Sarah was surprised when none of that happened would be an understatement. Sarah was a woman that believed strongly in processes. So instead of running screaming from the violently bloodthirsty female zombie that was running at her, Sarah started going through a mental checklist of what had gone wrong. Sarah remembered exhaling just before pulling the trigger. She remembered the gentle click as the trigger finally gave way under the pressure of her finger. She felt the hammer fall, and what should have followed was the sudden jerk of recoil as the gun fired. Instead there was nothing. Her mind clicked through the possibilities. Did she forget to load the gun? No. Could it be a defective firing pin? Maybe, but it wasn’t likely. She’d already fired the gun so many times today that the odds were strongly against it. That left one possibility. The bullet was a dud. There was an easy enough solution for that. Sarah worked the lever. The defective bullet flittered out into space, and was replaced by a live bullet.
Sarah readied herself to take aim, and her eyes grew huge. The zombie woman was almost on top of her. She’d never have time to actually take aim. Meanwhile Colton and B.J. fired wildly at the woman. Colton was hitting everything but the woman’s head, and B.J. hit the woman once in the elbow, but it was just dumb luck. All Sarah could think of at this exact moment was that she was going to die.
*Bang*
Lead pellets hit the undead woman, and drove her onto her side. Sarah looked back to the tree line. Bobby was stepping out. He was panting, and looked exhausted, but he kept firing shells into the undead woman. He started at the zombies legs, and worked his way up and down the body one shell at a time. Bobby was careful not to actually shoot the zombies head until he got to his fifteenth shell. By then the buckshot practically reduced the woman’s body to bloody pulp. On his last shot, the buckshot removed most of the woman’s face and left side of her head. Bobby then laughed maniacally as he stared at Michelle, “Baby, you’re the greatest!” He leaned in and kissed the barrel that was still hot from all the shooting. There was a slight sizzle, and Bobby jerked away with a slight burn to his lips.
“Bobby! You’re alive!” Colton wrapped his arms around his friend and started crying. B.J. and Sarah practically tackled the man in their enthusiasm at seeing him alive.
“What part of run Fatboy run didn’t you understand?” Bobby screamed.
“How are you even alive?” Colton’s voice was muffled as Sarah and B.J. pressed in to hug the man.
“There’s a back exit. I just ran through, and then ducked out the back.” Bobby grinned.
“You sneaky bastard! You had us all so worried.” Sarah hugged the man even closer.
Bobby hugged her back and basked in the feel of her body in his arms. “Yeah, I remembered the back door from when B.J. came here on her junior high field trip. I was still smoking back then. So when they were giving that really long and boring speech about Mother Nature, global warming, or some other environmental bullshit I ducked out to have a cigarette.”
B.J. started laughing, “To think…we got you to quit by telling you how cigarettes would kill you.”
“Yep…a pack of Marlboro’s saved my life.” Bobby laughed. He felt his daughter hug him tighter. “Seriously…I’m okay.”
“We heard you shoot all your shells.” Sarah said. She didn’t want to let the man go.
“I did, but stopped to reload when I realized we were about to get out on the road. It was a good thing I stopped because if I’d have kept chasing her you guys would have made me look like Swiss cheese.” Bobby explained. Sarah was pressed against him, and he could feel her breasts squeezed firmly between Sarah and himself. The more he thought about her luscious cleavage, the more he tried not to...which of course had the exact opposite effect. It wasn’t long before he felt himself stiffen.
“Hey! What the hell? I’m glad you’re alive, but not that glad.” Colton jerked back once Bobby’s erection started poking him. “I nearly lost an eye.” Colton teased. “We need to find you a woman.”
Bobby lifted his shotgun and grinned, “Don’t listen to him Michelle. He’s just jealous.” Then he gave a tentative kiss to the barrel one more time. He still jerked back from the heat of the barrel, but this time it didn’t burn him.
They all started walking towards the car when B.J. asked, “So what now?”
“We get the hell out of here. The farther we get away from these undead sons of bitches the better.” Colton answered.