Disclaimer: Although this story contains no sex, it is part of a series that does. If this pisses you off or whatever go away. And it does have a lot of violence cause I like writing about it, but it's ok cause it's violence against zombies. So if that'll scare you or something don't read this.
Hey ya'll, me again... if anyone like the first installment of Nashville Summers, I wrote this second one. I hadn't really planned on making it a series but now I'm kinda getting into the idea, and so I left this one with a bit of a cliffhanger. Again, PLEASE give me feedback, and thanks to everyone who did last time. Again, this is dedicated to Danny... I love you! : ) Anyway, here it is, enjoy all!
Nashville Summers 2: Break of Day
In case you've never tried standing guard all night long against a foul invasion of the living dead, let me tell you this much: it isn't half as fun as it seems. Long I sat there, my precious fifty-dollar Hawaiian shirt in ruins and my knuckles white as I clenched the handle of my blood-soaked axe as tight as I could. With my back to the wall I stared at the door all night have expecting some zombie beast to rip it off the hinges and come in, snarling for brains.
Well, ok now, so maybe that wasn't entirely true. So maybe I didn't spend the entire time staring at the door. Or even any. Christ, I'd been too busy fixing my gaze on Jamie's angelic, sleeping form that ever time I'd tried to tear my gaze away from him I'd failed, miserably. Hey, even gay zombie smackers have hormones, too, and right now mine were running about a mile a minute. Not once did I so much as feel the urge to sleep, 'cause that would have meant abandoning my post. I mean, hell, even before Jamie and I had fucked - excuse me, made love - I'd wanted to protect him, but now, heh, now I was just about ready to take on the entire army of darkness in his name.
Yawning, I got up and stretched, and even flexed a little. I was bare-chested, having discarded my scrappy rayon rags the previous night before hitting the hay with Jamie, and it made me feel a little tough, like Bruce Campbell on that Evil Dead 3 poster. Granted I didn't have quite the abs or the pecs he did, but hey... give me time, I'm only a frigging teenager for chrissake. I rubbed my hand down my torso, feeling gently for muscle. There was a little... nothing noticeable... but who the fuck cares? I was strong enough to beat the undead shit out of zombies and hot enough to give Jamie a hard-on, and at the moment those were the only two things that I gave a rusty fuck about.
Gingerly I crept over to the closet door, and slide it open as quickly and quietly as I could with one hand, and readied my axe with the other. If there were any zombies out and about I was ready to bust some caps. But I figured there wouldn't be, and I was right; the room was empty, completely devoid of afterlife. The entire night I had sat up watching over Jamie, and now it was morning, a new day, and I had an empty gas can in need of a refilling and a chainsaw back home that was longing to tear into some corpse guts.
I swung open the door, and woke Jamie with a gentle shake. "Here's your wake-up call babe," I said coolly, brushing some black strands of hair and some dried blood out of my face. "We gotta get a move on while we can, zombies don't like to come out during the day."
Blinking, he just looked up at me, yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Huh?" he asked, still sleepy. "Where are we going?"
"Not here." I responded illusively, tossing him his jammies. "Put these on, unless you feel like going back up to your room for some real clothes."
Again he yawned. "Naw, these'll do, it's nice and warm out." He slid him slender form into the pants first, then the shirt, slowly and unsteadily buttoning it as he forced himself to wake up. In a timid voice he asked, "So... Victoria's gone now?"
"Christ, don't call her that!" I snapped, and then regretted being so rough. "She's not your sister anymore man, I've told you, ya gotta stop thinking about her as Victoria!"
Meekly he nodded. "What should I call her?"
Huh. This stumped the hell out of me. How the fuck should I know? "Um, I don't know, anything! You just can't think of her like that dude, kay?" As before he nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Now I just hoped we wouldn't run into her again, ever, while at the same time I knew we would. Garrote wasn't a large city, and there were only so many places for zombies to hang out, y'know? And besides, Victoria was a bit of a bitch. I knew she wanted both me and my young lover, either dead or as zombies ourselves. Now there was a sickening thought... being a zombie? That made me want to hurl, that and kick Victoria's bitchass back to the grave.
As my thoughts began to run away with me I realized Jamie had been talking. "Huh?" I asked. "What was that?"
"I was just asking," he repeated, "where exactly we're going to?"
"Let's see," I thought out loud, both to answer his question and to get my thoughts straight in my own mind. "I got this chainsaw back home and it's really kickass against these things, tears 'em right the hell open, but it's out gas at the moment." Out of gas... what a stupid concept! I mean, when Ash was sent back in time to the middle ages in the end of Dead By Dawn, did his chainsaw ever run out of gas? Of course not!! "So I was just on my way to the gas station to get a re-fill," I continued, "so I guess that's where we go now." For a brief second I paused, as a new thought came to me. "You know... I bet I could use fireworks to scare the hell out of the zombies, and to blow them up, too." Jamie just gave me a confused look, and I realized he had no idea what the fuck I was talking about. "A friend of mine lives - well, used to live anyway - just a few blocks from here, and he was an incredible pyromaniac. If I can get my hands on his stash..." I let the thought hang.
Jamie gave a small smile. "That sounds cool," he said, his voice as soft as ever. "But what if you see your friend there, and he's a zombie?"
Rather then answer the question I grabbed Jamie by the hand, and pulled him into a deep, long kiss. When we broke I said, "C'mon... let's get going."
The rain hadn't let up at all through the night. I had known from the tell tale patter of rain droplets I had heard on the roof as I sat guarding, but now it seemed to have stopped, or at least turned into a slight drizzle so fine I couldn't hear it anymore. Sure enough, when Jamie and I reached the door and swung it open my suspicions were confirmed. The rain had slowed to a stop and the heat of the morning had covered the land with a think blanket of fog. It had a very soothing effect, or at least it might have, for someone else, under different circumstances, but not more me. "Crap." I stated flatly, staring out into the mist. "How in God's name are we gonna find our way through this?" The question was obviously rhetorical, and Jamie made no reply. I sighed, deeply and exaggeratedly. "Well, come on," I said, and set out on our way.
For the first few minutes of our journey we walked in silence, Jamie still half asleep and me lost in concentration, trying to peer through the mist in search of zombies to slice open. Yeah, it was true they didn't like to hang around during the day but they were cool about fog. It worked the same way darkness did, covering them up and allowing them to sneak real close before attacking. That's the sort of things zombies liked - they were sneaky bastards, especially during the day. Even still, I didn't expect to see many between sunup and sundown but it never hurt anyone to stay vigilant.
Soon enough, after we had walked maybe ten minutes or so the paved road branched off into a dirt one. This was our turn... or was it? For a moment I peered down the gloomy path, as far down as I could see. Unlike the main road this one lead deep into the forest, and was lined with no houses. To take this path would be quicker, but it certainly wouldn't be easier. "Ok, babe, decision time," I said, turning to Jamie. "We can either take the main road, which is much, much longer, but relatively safe, or go down here and risk running into some ferals."
Jamie scratched his head idly. "Ferals?"
"Yeah... feral zombies. In most cases, when the dead arise, they become zombies like your sis... like that thing that looks like your sister. Y'know, still able to walk and talk and fight as shit like that. But when they've been dead for too long and they arise, something fucks up. I think they've been rotting for two long and their brains don't work right. The result... well, it's hard to explain. You must have at least seen Night of the Living Dead, right?"
He shrugged. "Parts of it, I think."
"'68 or '90?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind... anyway, these feral zombies as I call 'em can barely even think. They just sort of moan and clump around a lot, they look a helluva lot scarier then they actually are. The thing is, they're determined, and there's a fuckload of 'em... the start coming and they don't stop coming. They like to hang out in groups." Again, I peered down the unpaved road, a little more apprehensively this time. "Usually in forests or under bridges, or in cemeteries. Especially in cemeteries." I shifted my gaze back to him. "So... which path ya wanna go down?"
With a confused look he stared back at me. "Why are you asking me?" Good point, why was I asking him? I was the one with experience, I'd been doing this for weeks, or months, however long it had been since the uprising, while he was still hiding out in his little closet. This was my decision to make.
But even still... "Are you like, okay with going down this way?" I asked, gesturing to the forest path with my axe. "I mean, I'm kinda desensitized to mad zombie slaughter but you..."
"I'll be fine," he cut me off, with forced enthusiasm. "Don't worry..."
Although I wasn't entirely convinced, what could I have done? With a shrug I turned in the direction of the dirt road, calling back to Jamie over my shoulder, "If we see any ferals stay close behind me, but not too close... I don't want to smack you with the axe by accident. That might ruin my whole day. And if you see any behind you when I'm fighting one lemme know, so I can take care of it first. But," I added as an afterthought, "don't worry! These things suck, they're wicked slow and some of 'em don't even have any teeth anymore. It's just when they swarm ya that you're in trouble... and we might not even run into any."
Nodding gently, Jamie followed me down the path, and together we walked down towards my friend's house. Moist leaves and gravel crunched together under my feet and Jamie's, providing a shuffling sound that must have alerted any nearby zombies they we were coming, at least, any whose ears hadn't rotted off yet. Damn this fog! I couldn't see more then five feet in front of my face, so I knew I'd have to stay alert. Once the zombies start coming I'd have to strike fast.
Sure enough, a face appeared in the mist, a long dead face that reminded me a little of my science teacher before the schools had shut down. It was old, fetid, decomposing; the mouth hung crookedly open and it was moaning softly, "Brains... brains..." I lifted my axe and swung, connecting right above the eyes, taking the top of his head clean off and splattering rotting zombie brains everywhere. That was easy enough, I thought, but before I could tie that thought down in words two more ferals materialized in front of me. The one of the right was moaning for my brains like the last one has been, but his friend was missing the lower half of his jaw, and his flesh was so rotten that bone was poking through to the surface in several places.
"Aw, go to hell," I muttered, and brought my axe down square of the moaner's head, splitting it clean in two and embedding my axe between his shoulders. To the other I raised my right foot in a high snap kick that hit it right where the lower jaw should have been, sending it sprawling backwards. It twitched a little, trying to stand up, but it had no luck - its muscles were far too decomposed to allow it. No sooner had I dispatched those two that three, four, five more emerged from the forest, some moaning, other mute, all disgustingly dead and in various stages of decomposition.
Again I tore my axe out of the dead zombie's carcass and raised it for another swing, but from a few feet behind me I heard Jamie call out, "Nash!" I turned and saw a particularly ugly feral advancing on him... this one looked ready to keel over on it's own, but Jamie was afraid. Quick as I could I ran over and delivered a punch, harder then I had thought possible, right to the center of its forehead. It fell backwards, smacking its head on the ground as it landed, and then moved no more.
By now, at least seven more ferals had gathered, drawing nearer, maybe attracted by the smell of blood or maybe because I had such bad fucking luck. "Shit," I murmured, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. Then I grabbed Jamie's hand in mine, tightening my other around the handle of my axe. There were too many of 'em... no way could we fight our way out. "C'mon, let's get the fuck out of here." Pushing a pair of ferals aside to clear the path, I started to run, as fast as I could.
The zombies were coming out of the woodwork now, lining the road and still continuing to appear; if we had waited any longer to make our escape we wouldn't been able to, they'd've blocked our every route and then just kept coming and coming until I became fatigued from killing them. Other zombies would actually retreat when they knew they hadn't a change of winning a fight, but ferals were driven solely by their hunger; they hadn't the brain power to realize they were dumber then shit.
As we ran past them they clawed at me, or tried to at least; I just rushed past their outstretched arms and hands, occasionally giving my axe a weak little swing to cut one down. But they couldn't chase after us or anything... their running days were long behind them, and most of them could barely shuffle forwards. But they didn't need mobility, or even any sort of skill whatsoever. They had numbers. The forests were full of them. I made a mental note to never go into the forest again.
Behind me I could hear Jamie start to breath hard, and he started to slow down a little, which made me begin to worry. If he couldn't take the run, what could we do? Nothing, and die. Oh well, if he got tired he'd just have to suck it up, that was all, it was either run or die. But I wasn't too concerned... my friend's house was drawing nearer, and the ranks of the zombies were thinning out the closer we got.
Finally, another dirt path branched off to the right of the one we traveled on and I made the turn, pulling Jamie along with me. "This way... it's his driveway." With our destination in sight Jamie seemed to get his second wind, and we took off down the driveway. His driveway was a long one, and once we got about thirty feet down it the zombies stopped appearing, as if this section of the woods was devoid of them. I didn't think about that right now; I just kept running now, I could think later.
Before too long the house loomed over us. It had seen better days, back before the zombies, when I used to visit Alexander Bogosian, my friend who had lived there, just about every day. Bogo, as he'd been called - the only time I ever called him Alex was when I wanted something, as in, "Hey Alex, got any food?" -- was a bit of a nerd, a bit overweight, and a bit of a pyromaniac. He enjoyed sneaking out at night and blowing up fireworks in the middle of the forest and waking up the whole neighborhood. He was a helluva guy. Now, his love for fireworks would help me blow the shit out of the undead.
"Almost there," I grinned at Jamie, holding his hand tightly. He looked back and returned it, opening his mouth to say something, but before any words could come out, I heard a familiar but very different voice cry out, "Die die die die die!" Our grins vanished but before I could do anything a gunshot rang out and a small red splotch appeared on Jamie's chest.
"No!" I yelled before I had time to wonder why Bogo would be alive and shooting at us, but Jamie just looked confused. He reached down and touched the splotch, and then looked up at me.
"It's paint..." he said, sounding more confused then ever, looking to me to explain. I was at a loss; sure, I had known Bogo was a weird guy but what the fuck was up with this? Had he just like snapped or something? Yeah, it was cool to know that he wasn't zombie food but even still, this was just weird.
I looked around, but I could see where he was hiding. "Hey Bogo!" I yelled, just loud enough so as to not draw the zombies closer. "What the fuck?"
"Sorry, man," he called back, still in hiding. "Thought you were zombies, heheh. I'm over here, could you like gimme a hand dude?" Together Jamie and I walked over, in the direction of the voice, to discover Bogo lying on the ground, his left leg crushed beneath a fallen tree. He'd changed in the months since I'd last seen him... he'd lost a lot of weight and grown a lot of hair, and the acne that had plagued him since age twelve were thicker then ever before. He wore a slightly torn, very ragged and dirty Def Leppard shirt that hung loosely off his body, and a pair of bloody and faded jean cutoffs. "Thanks, dude," he gasped as together Jamie and I lifted the tree from his leg. Glancing downward at the wound, he moaned in pain. "Ow ow OW that smarts... hey, you two wanna do me a favor and help me inside? I could hop, but somehow I think that wouldn't be much fun."
"Sure thing," I said, and Jamie and I got on either side of him, allowing him to wrap his arms around our shoulders for support. The three of us walked what little distance there was to his house. I opened the door, and we helped him inside.
Man... Bogo's house has really gone to shit the last few months. Actually it resembled the Garrote homestead as I had found it last night, in a way. Similarly they both looked as if wars had been fought in them; Bogo's stuff was a demolished as it could have been, and strewn about the house in a random manner. There was something missing though... what was it? I couldn't put my finger on it until I glanced over at Jamie and saw the red paint on his jammie tops... blood! There was no blood anywhere in the house... what was up with that?
Bogo noticed me staring and grinned. "Heheh, I've redecorated a bit without my parents around." One his good right leg he hopped over to a chair in the corner and plopped down into it lazily. "It's good to be home."
Again, Jamie and I exchanged a glance... was Bogo gonna explain anything, or what? "Hey, what the fuck happened out there? Why were you pinned beneath a tree?"
"It fell on me."
"No shit!"
Chuckling a little, he yawned. "Well, I had to prepare for the zombies, right? So I went out to cut some wood, you know, like for a barricade or something. But I fucked up, I couldn't get outa the way fast enough." He glanced down at his damaged leg. "Well, now it's shot to shit... I really fucked it up. I won't be going anywhere anytime soon." He was right... I was no doctor but I could tell his leg was broken; the lower half hung limp and useless, and there was blood everywhere. "I sure hope no zombies decide to pay a visit."
"Well, if they do, I'm here now," I assured him. "By the way, what the fuck were you thinking with that paintball gun?"
He shrugged. "I dunno... maybe scare them off a bit, if I start shooting at 'em."
"Zombies don't scare." I stated flatly, raising my axe. "Not these kind. Ya gonna hack 'em apart, or else they'll just keep coming back for more. "Again, Bogo just shrugged, so I changed the subject. "Hey, Alex, got any food?" I was hungry, and I would have bet Jamie was, too. After all, we hadn't eaten last night... we'd been busy with something else.
Much to my dismay Bogo just shook his head. "Naw, sorry dude... I got nothing. I was gonna go out to snag some shit from the grocery store after blocking myself in but no such luck, heh." Again, he turned his attention down to his mashed up leg. "I wonder if I could make some crutches or something..."
"That'd wouldn't help you out much," I said, scoffing lightly. "With crutches you'd be able to walk alright, but you'd be slower then shit. The zombies could still catch you, even these things you hang out with here in the forest."
With a grin, he replied, "Yeah, but I could use them to beat 'em over the head or something!"
I rolled my eyes. "That wouldn't work either, except maybe to slow 'em down a little. Ya gotta give 'em a really hard whack to the head if you wanna get anything done."
"Yeah, I know. Hey, what happened to your shirt?"
"It got ripped. To shreds, actually, which sucks 'cause it was a nice shirt. It was all bloody and shit anyway from killing zombies... Have you had to fight many?"
"A few," he responded, shugging. "At first they came right up to the house but I had a chainsaw then, and I tore 'em all to pieces... it was sweet. Then they stopped for a while, but I think they've been gathering in this area, getting ready to storm the house..."
"What happened to the chainsaw?"
Scowling, he replied, "It ran outa gas..."
"Yeah... I know what that's like..."
After that, there was a brief silence, as we both pondered our own separate thoughts, until Jamie broke it. "Um... do you have fireworks?" Suddenly I remembered why I had come here; to get supplies!
The grin returned to Bogo's face. "Fuegos artificiales! Hell yeah! Good thinking, we can use 'em to blow zombies to shit... I like it!" Still grinning, he got out of his chair, balancing himself on his good leg. "C'mon, Nash, help me up to my room... I still have a shitload left, let's go."
I grumbled, "It was my idea..." In unison the three of us walked, swiftly as possible, up the stairs. That was a helluva task; twice Bogo nearly fell backwards and broke his ass. But eventually we made it up to his room, which was the one part of his house that remained exactly as I had remembered it. Junk lay strewn about the floor, posters advocating various rock and metal groups adorned the walls, and in the corner lay the beat up old mattress that served as Bogo's bed. In the right wall sat a large window overlooking the driveway, and on the opposite side sat another overlooking his backyard. But right now I didn't give a flying fuck about any of that; my attention was focused on the shelves, which were full of as many fireworks as Bogo'd been able to his pyromanical hands on. "Sweet!" I exclaimed joyfully... this was more then I had hoped for. Even Jamie seemed impressed. "This is perfect! With all this shit we can really fuck some zombies up good!" I didn't know much about explosives but this looked good, this was something that was gonna help me at last, this was even better then more gas for my chainsaw. "Wow... I murmured under my breath, just staring, long, while Bogo stood nearby, chuckling at my amazement. I would have stared even longer had I not suddenly been jolted out of my concentration by a loud smashing sound, coming from downstairs. "The fuck was that!?" Bogo and I shouted in unison, but Jamie was more resourceful.
"Nash, look!" he said, tugging my arm to the window. Outside, advancing on the house, were more zombies then I'd ever seen before in my life. They were ferals, for the most part, although a few of them looked recently dead, and some could even have been mistaken for the living. I recoiled in fright; what could we do? How could we escape? Especially with Bogo's leg as it was... From the other side of the room, Bogo said, "They're in the backyard, too... they've got us surrounded." For the first time in my life I heard Bogo speak with fear in his voice, cracking it every other word.
"Get the matches... get the fireworks..." I said, pacing around the room nervously. "We can throw 'em out the window at the zombies... kill at many as we can..."
Bogo sighed, and shook his head. "No," he said, nervously. "They're already inside, we heard them break down the door," With a sigh of defeat, he added, "they've won already."
"So what will we do then?" I asked, sarcastically. "Roll over and die?"
"Naw," he shook his head, speaking faster now. "Remember the rope ladder?" I did. When Bogo and I were younger we had constructed a ladder with sticks and some coils of rope, hauled it up to the roof, and tied it to his chimney, so we could sneak outside at night to roam the town, without letting his parents know. I nodded. "Yeah. I remember." But that was useless... the ladder would take us into the middle of the backyard, not far away to safety. Doubly useless... on one leg, either climbing to the roof or using the ladder would be near impossible.
"Use it, the two of you, now before they get up here! Get on the roof, then hide their until it's clear enough to make a run for it. Now!" What? That was crazy! "And leave you here?"
"Yeah, exactly! You said it yourself, there's no way I can run from zombies with one leg, so save yourselves!" Below us I could begin to hear the moaning of the ferals and the shrieks of the recently dead as they made their way closer to the stairs. Swiftly Jamie ran over to the door, closing and locking it. "He's right Nash, this is the only way, we gotta do this."
No... there had to be another way! "What about the fireworks?" I asked frantically.
Bogo pulled out a box of matches from a drawer. "I can hide with them in the closet, but that'll only last so long. When they break down the closet door..." Again his voice cracked, and he gulped. "I'll try to get as many of them as I can."
"By blowing up the house?" I yelled. "There's gotta be a better way, it doesn't have to be like this!"
"You know it does," he replied, and turned to start moving fireworks by the armful into the closet. Jamie had moved over to the window and thrown it up, and now he called back to me.
"C'mon, Nash... I can't get up to the roof on my own." With a defeated sigh I joined him at the window, and hoisted him out of it, supporting him until he had a firm grip on the roof, when I pushed him the rest of the way up. Then, I turned back to Bogo, who by now had just about moved his entire firework collection into his closet. "Maybe they won't find you," I offered optimistically. "Don't go lighting those things off until absolutely necessary."
We both knew that was impossible, but he humored me. "Sure," he said with a lopsided grin. "I'll just wait around in here a while until these assholes take a hike then I'll catch up with the two of you."
"Sounds good," I murmered, and then learned out the window and looked up to see Jamie, reaching down with his hand, ready to help pull me up to the roof. I glanced inside for the last time. "Goodbye, Alex."
"Seeya later, Nash," he said, and then gave me another sad, slight grin. "Heh, Dad always said I was gonna blow myself up one day." With that he closed the closet door. I heard it click, locked.
Again I leaned out the window, grabbing Jamie's hand with my right, and tossing the axe on the roof with my left. Jamie was stronger then I would have thought; and it didn't take the two of us long to get my squirming self up onto the roof. It had been a while since Bogo and I had done that and I was a little out of practice, and a lot nostalgic, remembering days gone by, the first time we had climbed up there, awkward and clumsy, until after doing it every night we had gotten slipping out the window down to an art. For Jamie's sake I forced myself not to show how terrible I felt about running out on my friend.
Together Jamie and I found the ladder, and brought it over to the edge of the roof, ready to drop as soon as we felt safe enough. It must have been almost noon by now, and the fog had begun to lift. I gazed out over the army of darkness below; the numbers were dropping as more and more entered the house. Suddenly I noticed something that turned my sadness into apprehension; among the invading dead was Victoria. Jamie's sister was helping to attack my friend's house... shit! What if he got scared? Zombies held grudges, I knew. They'd go out of their way to kill the friends and family of the person they had been in life, and I couldn't let that happen.
"Jamie..." I began, turning to my young lover. "Let me go down the ladder first... I've got the axe, I'll start to clear a path then we can take off." He nodded his agreement. "We can meet up at the end of the driveway, you hear me? If for any reason we get split up, go to where the road and the driveway meet and hide, and I'll meet you there."
Again he nodded, glancing up at me, Our eyes met, and Jamie opened his mouth to speak, slowly. "I love you, he said, the sweetest thing I had ever heard in my life. I leaned forward, my lips meeting his in a kiss, passionate and loving.
We stayed in the kiss as long as we dared, and then together we glanced downwards. Only a handful of ferals - five I counted, and Jamie's sister - remained outside. "Okay," I gasped. "Let's go... now!"
We threw down the rope ladder and faster then ever before I slid down it, ready for a brief fight followed by a swift escape when I reached the bottom. With my feet once again firmly planted on the ground I took a battling stance and swung my axe in a wide arc, dropping three of the remaining zombies immediately. The rest hissed in anger and surprise, those that still could, and Victoria screamed in anger. "You!" it yelled, its voice full of hate it knew it could do nothing about... I was the one with the axe.
Nearly as fast as I had, Jamie followed me down. Once he reached earth I placed myself in between him and his sister, in case she wanted some undead vengence. "Go! Now!" I yelled at him, and he took off down the driveway, as fast as his feet would allow. I glanced back in Victoria's direction, smacking another zombie for good measure in the process. "Well, you shit-eating grave-dodging brain chewer, looks like we escape again. Goodbye, biznich!" I turned to run away after Jamie, but when I did my foot caught under the corpse of the last zombie to die, and I tripped, falling to the ground and landing right on my face. My axe went flying.
"How clumsy are the living!" Victoria shrieked with delight, drawing closer to me. "Arrogant human! Let's see you gloat after I bite out your esophagus!" With another undead yell it leaped upon me, raking its nails - no, claws - over my bare chest and back. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the fifth feral, the last man standing, bend over and grab my axe. He was an ugly one... in life he'd obviously been quite fat, with long hair, now turned white, reaching down below his shoulders. But now he was an it, and the decomposition had reduced his mountainous girth considerably. Zombies had an excellent diet plan; brains were very low on calories.
With all the strength I could muster I wrapped my hands around Victoria's cold, undead throat, and squeezed, pushing her away. She shifter her weight a little, and I grabbed the advantage, throwing her off of me, but she held fast and we ended up in the same position again, only with myself on top. I had liked to think of myself as being used to the smell of the dead, but wrestling with a zombie was something to change my mind... it took all my strength not to hurl all over her.
As we remained tangled in our struggle the last feral drew closer. Sure, it might be half decomposed, but it knew what an axe was, and it knew how to use one. It drew nearer to our entanglement, and finally it loomed over the two of us, slowly raising the axe with every last once of unrotten muscle it had left. Shit! If I didn't act quickly I'd soon have a splitting headache. Suddenly with a burst of strength I rolled myself to the right, flipping the two of us over again, leaving Victoria once again on top.
It was too late for the fat feral man to stop the axe's decent and it struck Victoria square on the back. It screamed, and let go of me, grasping with its hands, trying to remove the axe. Yes! I thought victoriously... it had hit the spine, part of the nervous system. I threw the screaming she-beast off of me, arising once again to my feet, and ripped the axe from its back. Realizing in its feeble, worm-eaten mind that it had fucked up and fucked up bad the feral started towards me to finish what it had started. But it was too late now... I was once again the guy with the weapon. "Allow me to 'axe' you a few questions," I yelled at it, wishing someone alive was around to hear my wittiness, and swung. BAM! It connected, and the top six inches of the zombie's head disappeared.
"Just a little off the top, you said?" I asked the motionless corpse, feeling rather pleased with myself... until I realized I should be running away. I had a date to keep. Jamie! I thought silently. I'm coming for you! I began to run down the driveway, with wings on my feet, to the spot we had agreed upon to meet.
I was only halfway down the driveway when I saw them. A second undead army, heading straight towards me, stretching on as far as I could see... past the end of the driveway, all the way into the street. Into the street? Where had Jamie gone? The evil dead were marching over our meeting place; where could he have turned to? I stopped, dead in my tracks, panting and sweating. "Shit!" I yelled at the zombies marching towards me, and I turned to run in the other direction, only to see Victoria, running towards me. The brain! I remembered, wanting to kick my own ass. The spinal cord wasn't enough, I had to kill the brain. "You dumbass!" I screamed at myself, and, being caught between my nemesis and the raging hordes, I turned into the woods and fled.
Fuck! Could things get any worse? I asked myself, running through pricker bushes and underbrush, cutting myself up pretty bad in the process, while Victoria gave chase. But I had the advantage here. I was used to this; I knew the terrain. Bogo and I had played many a wargame here, doing just what I was doing now - but on a much, much smaller scale - and soon I was able to lose the zombie behind me. By the time I emerged from the forest and into the main road I was half a mile away, and the zombies were far behind me. The ferals, Victoria, the entire army... I was away from all that now, and I collapsed, right there in the street, to rest my weary, plant-torn body a moment.
Panting profusely, I was close to desperation. Jamie was lost, Bogo was dead, Victoria was hunting me down, and the ferals had somehow organized themselves together, which was what I had feared since day one. I needed to find hope... anything, any small thought that might drive me on. Bogo... maybe he had escaped, after all. Yeah! They zombies wanted me now, not some cripple; it was me, I was the one who had killed so many of them, I was the thorn in their side, the bane of the undead. I jumped to my feet, filled with enthusiasm. I was Nashville Summers, Zombie Smacker, and they were so scared that they'd abandon their house invasion, and their pursuit of Jamie, just to come after me! And when they did, boy, would I let them have it! Yeah, I'd taken 'em all on, I'd slaughter the whole bunch, I'd...
My thoughts were shattered by a sickening sound. In the distance a heard a noise I had hear many times before, but never so loud. It was an explosion, the kind made by the type of fireworks me and Bogo had liked to set off in the woods. The sound was tremendous, and I knew that Bogo had set off his whole stash. That he also killed a fuckload of zombies was no consolation. They had won, they had gotten to him, and next they would find Jamie, and then they would find me. And they would kill me. I was no longer Nashville Summers, Zombie Smacker, I was just Nash, the pathetic loser who couldn't even save his best friend or his lover. The zombies would win. There was nothing I could do. Slowly and sadly I sat back down on the pavement and cried.
That's it, thanks for reading, and thanks in advance if you're planning on giving me feedback. Contact info is below. Please, I know some of you have responded in the past to my GMX account, but don't do that any more : ) Thanks again, hope you liked it! : )
Jeff AKA Cold Mouse cold_mouse@daniels-domain.de ICQ#: 26677405 I love Danny