The Zombie A Go Go

“I’m sorry Donovan,”
I knew she was. I could see it in her eyes, even as mine were finishing their necrotic glaze, I could still see her sorrow. I shambled a little closer, and leaned my head onto the point of her revolver. I couldn’t speak; I couldn’t tell her how much I had realized she meant to me. I was too far gone, my vocal chords were shot, but I hoped my gesture told her everything, everything I had realized too late to matter.

 

It had been a rough mission, we’d lost two men. The new guy hadn’t been out from the walls in almost six months, and I’m not sure how he ever survived outside in the first place. He panicked, broke formation, opening a hole and Cedric got bit because of it.

Once we’d finished the mission, I put him down myself, hardest thing I’ve done in a while. I waited as long as I could. Doc says we basically have  24 hours after we reanimate before we become full on flesh eaters. Cedric was getting sicker by the hour, and would have died any minute. So I looked him in the eyes and pulled the trigger. The least I could do was look him in the eyes. We’d almost been friends.

We lost number 22 a few days later. You have to be on patrol for three months of outside time before I even wanted to know your name. It’s easier that way, easier to put the nobodies down when they get bit, easier to insulate myself. 22 was grabbed by one of the sealed ones.

A few weeks into the chaos some general somewhere decided to start catching zombies, and sealing them in wax, metal, and shellac. They never decomposed, and with a little armor they were perfect infantry. They were completely expendable, and harder than hell to kill. Probably was a great strategy for taking shit from other people, but now five years in, the generals are all gone and those of us that are left have to deal with the sealed ones. 22 had walked away from the dune buggy to take a leak, and we think it bit his dick off. We can’t be sure, we heard him scream, and then two shots, one into the dead’s head and the other into his own. I made the newbie grab his gear, and burn him. You had to burn your dead outside of New Hope’s walls. If not then the zombies, or the scavengers, or the cannibals would dig ‘em up, and well that just ain’t right.

“Four score and seven years a go,” the voice recorder said as honest Abe reached from his chain to try and grab number 12.

“Why do you always stare at this one sarge,” 12 asked me.

“I just find him funny. What’s not to find funny, honest Abe a fucking flesh eater. He freed the slaves and here he is chained putting on a show. It’s ironic 12 and funny, not much else is anymore.”

“I dunno, maybe, but I can’t get past Colonel Tom’s voice on the recorder.”

“That makes it funnier, and besides at least the Colonel is trying to brighten up things.”

“Zombie go go dancers behind bulletproof glass and celebrity zombies chained to the wall isn’t what I’d call cheery.”

I looked around the Zombie A Go Go for a second. There were four dancers on stage. Dancers, well that’s what the Colonel called them. They mostly just swayed in time with the music, “Psycho” by the Sonics, I thought. Every so often a drunk would get too close to the glass and they’d try to break loose and get some, but the chains were strong, so it never happened.  Chained to the wall, teeth pulled, were Marilyn Monroe, Elvis, the fatter version, and honest Abe each one with their own audio track.

‘It’s better than outside.”

“And you’re buying, right Sarge?,” number 12 gestured towards the bar.

“For the fallen, and their memory.” I walked towards the bar, Louie was working, he wasn’t bad, but the dead were probably smarter than he was.

“Tell your fat boss to get out here I’ve got some trading to do.”

“I can trade, Donovan.What you got?” Louie asked.

“It’s above your pay grade.” I pulled a fancy bottle of tequila from my pack.

“Sweet,” said Louie. “Too bad no one around here can afford to drink that.”

“That’s why it’s above your pay grade. The colonel will want it for himself, and I aim to make him pay for it.” Louie walked off towards the door behind the bar, and briefly stuck his head in.

“The colonel says he’s not interested.”

“Bullshit,” I said, grabbing a decent bottle of Scotch and an even better bottle of Bourbon.

“Hey, leave those be, those aren’t yours.”

“Yes, they are, and that’s just for starters, every second the colonel makes me wait the price goes up.” I continued reaching under the bar, I pulled up a jar of olives.

The colonel stepped out of his office he wasn’t a tall man, but what he lacked in height he made up in girth.

“Put those down Donovan. We ain’t agreed yet,” he said with his slight southern drawl.

I turned the tequila around, “Forty years old before the fall. I figure that means it’s at least fifty now, and never been opened.” I could see him salivating as he licked his lips. The Colonel had lots of vices, but food and good tequila were his biggest.

“I’m listening,” he said.


“We lost two this time, Cedric and another one. I’m taking what I’ve got here, and you’re giving the rest of the crew whatever they want.”

“Except the upstairs.’

“Including the upstairs,” I said starting to rip the plastic seal from the bottle’s top.

“You don’t even like tequila, Donovan. You won’t drink it.”

“No, but I’ll gladly pour it on the floor, just to watch you lick it up.’

“Now, Donovan, my friend, there’s no need to be extreme. Of course your friends can have the upstairs. Least I can do for you boys, our first defense and all.”

“Everyone. Everyone but the newbie. He got Cedric killed. He gets nothing.  And I need Cherry for the night ” I took my stash with me as I walked towards a table at the front. I never liked the go go show, but tonight I needed the entertainment.

“You’ll need a glass for that,” Cherry said. ‘And probably company too.” She was a waitress, and sometimes companion, upstairs. I liked her, she was honest, and still had an air of the time before the fall about her.

“I need the glass, but you may want to bring two.”

“Oh you’re buying drinks. What’s the occasion?”

“Just bring the glasses.”  I loved scotch. The bourbon was for her. She’d been Cedric’s girl.

She returned with the glasses and I poured us each a double. I told her what had happened, except the part about the newbie. She’d have killed him if she’d known. I didn’t really care if he died, I almost killed him myself, but I cared about her. She didn’t need to become part of this world, the killing, the fighting. Like I’d said, she’d kept an air of the old world around her. We needed that. I needed that, to know there were still some dreamers left.

She cried and we drank until the bottles were empty.

“I need some air Donovan,” she said as she stumbled up from the table. I tried to get up with her.
“No,” she said. “I need to be alone for a few minutes, don’t worry I’ll be back in a few.”
I fell back into the chair, almost missing it entirely.

“Sarge?”

I looked up. The newbie was standing in front of me.

“You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me anything!”

“It wasn’t my fault. I mean…”

“You’re damn right it wasn’t your fault. I never should have let you out there. You weren’t ready. It was my fault.” I stumbled as I tried to stand. The newbie caught me.

“Why’d you even want back outside.” I asked him.

“I needed to prove I could. When you found me with my other group, they were all dead. I’d fallen asleep on watch and we got overrun. I needed to make up for that.”

“By getting Cedric killed,” I took a big swing at him, only connecting with the air. He returned the favor and connected with my gut.

“I hope you enjoyed that,” I said while heaving my guts up. “In the morning I’m removing you from the patrols, you piece of shit.”

There were only two rules at the Zombie A Go Go, no fighting, and no puking. I’d just broken both of them. The Colonel’s goons would throw me out the back door, before I could even get off the floor. I could hear them rushing towards me, when I saw Cherry’s face in mine.

“Donovan, I need to show you something.” She tried to help me up, but we both kept falling every time we almost got our balance. She kept trying to talk to me, but her words were too slurred, too desperate to understand.

I could fee Tiny’s boot on my hand. “Get her upstairs, and get them out of here.” Several arms grabbed me and I could feel myself being dragged towards the back door. I could hear the bar lifting from the door. I swung as hard as I could. A goon’s fist cracked against my jaw.

“You’ll stand a better chance if you don’t fight. The fresh blood will only rile them up if they’re out there.” The city was surrounded by a series of barriers, we called rings, the back door opened to the outer ring. It wasn’t zombie proof. We’d decided to give them access, they get in through the open arch and wander around impaling themselves on traps we’d left. The few times we’d been attacked by marauders, a patrol had gone out the back door of the club, and shut the arch. If the marauders got in the outer ring acted like a zombie moat. You didn’t want to be in the outer ring  ever, let alone drunk and at night.

I could feel the air rush in carrying the stench of decay and death with it, as I felt myself  hurled outside. The newbie landed next to me as I heard the door slam shut.

“What do we do Sarge,” the newbie asked.

“What we always do, survive,” I stood as best I could, and the newbie helped steady me.

“Cedric and I buried a gear pack in an old refrigerator four buildings to the left.” I gestured as best I could to the end of the alley. The full moon lit the ring fairly well. In the afternoon, I’d tell the council and suggest we put up some tarps to block out the moonlight, no need letting potential invaders have a good view.

“If we move quietly the dead might not hear us.” Newbie nodded in understanding. We stumbled down the alley. He was ready to turn the corner when I stopped him. I wished I’d still had my gear, but the goons had taken my pack. I peeked my head around the corner. Of course there was a zombie in front of the fridge. I reached into my pocket. They hadn’t taken my pocket knife.

I pulled back from the corner. “If we move slowly towards it, it may not notice us until we get close.” I showed him my knife. “I’ll shank it before it even knows we’re there.”

“What if it does notice us?”

“I’ll run towards it, when it moves for me you run for the gear. Grab the crossbow and shoot it, If I haven’t taken it out already.” I was a fairly simple plan, the dead weren’t that smart, so one zombie would be easy. We turned the corner and started staggering towards the zombie. We were halfway there when it turned towards us and started moving our way.

“It knows we’re here,” he whispered.
“No, they move in herds. It probably just wants company.” I could see him shaking as we inched closer. It let out a yowl as we got closer. It didn’t want company, it wanted dinner.

“What do we do,” he shouted.


“Keep your voice down, and stick to the plan.” I pushed him out of my way as I charged the zombie.


“Shit.”


“What?” he said as he dashed towards the refrigerator.


“He’s sealed. Get the axe before the bow, I need to bash this fucker.” The zombie grabbed me and we rolled toward the building wall. There was no way I was getting my small blade into his skull. I could keep him at bay, even drunk, but I needed to get that axe. I looked at the fridge. The newbie had the door open and the pack out. He grabbed the crossbow.

“The axe, not the bow. I need the axe.”

“Look behind you, we need everything.”

“Shit,” I had forgotten to look both ways. I flipped my dancing partner towards the wall and could see at least three more shambling towards us. I started stepping back towards the newbie. As long as he stayed put, he could hand me the axe when I got there. I tried jabbing my knife through the zombie’s throat, but the sealed skin was like leather and refused to budge. I heard a bolt fly through the air. It struck one of the approaching ones in the neck. The second hit its eyes and it fell. They weren’t sealed. The next few bolts whizzed into the night, as I reached my hand behind me feeling the axe handle. With a quick swing the sealed one fell as the axe split his head like an overripe melon.

I could see several more in the moonlight, trailing behind the ones almost on top of us.

“Give me the crossbow, I’m a better shot.” There was no answer. I turned quickly to see the newbie running into the distance carrying all of the gear with him.

“You fucking coward. I’m getting you thrown out in the morning.” I charged the zombies, as long as they weren’t sealed the axe was all I needed. The first two fell easily under the axe. I stopped in front of the backdoor alley, catching my breath, as the other three approached. I was sure one was sealed. The spiked football pads and helmet were a sure sign it had been someone’s infantry.

They surrounded me. I pushed them away with the axe and my free hand. The infantry man raised its head lunging for me. I swung with all my might at his neck. The axe stuck for a moment, but then his head rolled to the ground with a thud. With him gone the other two were quick work.

I stood straight, fuck exile. I’ll kill him myself, I thought. That’s when I felt a sharp pain in my chest and everything started spinning as I fell to the ground. “The fucking coward shot me,” I thought, as everything went black.

I woke up face down in the dirt. I must have killed all the undead, before the noob shot me, since from what I could tell nothing had taken a chunk out of me. I couldn’t believe he shot me in the back. If he had managed to kill me I would have turned. No one does that to a person. When I find him I’m going to kill him slow.

I staggered a little getting to my feet, and started brushing myself off, when I snagged my hand on my chest. It didn’t hurt, but my hand was clearly stuck to something. I looked down. My hand was stuck to the tip of the crossbow bolt sticking out of my chest. I froze.

“Shit!” I stood still for a moment, then pulled my hand free.


“Shit!” There wasn’t any blood. I grabbed my wrist with my other hand.

 

There wasn’t a pulse.


“Fuck!”


“I’m dead.” I turned slowly around looking at the outer ring. Everything moved in slow motion. It was crawling with zombies, a herd must have moved in last night after he killed me. With this many zombies the city would be on lockdown until the clean-up crews came to thin the herd.

“Shit.”

They’d kill me on sight if they knew I’d turned.  I had a few hours until I’d really start to turn. Right now, I’d risen, but I still looked alive and could speak. According to Doc, it took twenty-four hours to go full on flesh eater. I grabbed the bolt and pulled as hard as I could. It made a sucking sound as it exited my chest. Next I needed something to cover my wounds. I looked around. I didn’t think my fellow undead would mind if I borrowed some of their clothes. I saw a biker a few buildings down, still decked in his leathers. It’d be a new look for me, but the gloves would cover my hand, and the vest my chest.

I walked through the zombies with ease, occasionally taking one out with the axe. From what we knew they hunted by smell. I could do whatever I wanted because I didn’t smell alive.

Thunk. I could hear the bar on the Go Go being moved.


“Shit,” The cleaning crew was coming out. I grabbed the biker by the shoulders, he almost looked shocked as I spun him around taking his vest and one glove. I was fighting for the other one as I heard the door fully open. No time for stealth now, I thought. I smashed his head with the axe handle and started dressing. I could smell something faintly in the air, like iron mixed with raw meat. I could smell the cleaning crew, and so could the herd. They all started moving towards the door. I could hear 15 sparking the flame thrower, and 22 muttering.

I watched the herd fill the alley, there were too many for the cleaning crew. There were  at least two other crews coming out other doors, the watchers would have seen how big the herd was, but they weren’t going to get here nearly in time.

“Hey you dead fucks! Over here!” I yelled banging on the old refrigerator. The back of the herd turned towards me breaking off from the alley.

“What the hell?” asked 15, as he turned the flame thrower too high.

“Is that you, Sarge?” I could hear 22 grunting as he thrust his pike into a few dead heads.

“Who else would be dumb enough to be out here with the herd?” I swung for the nearest zombie taking the top of his head with my axe blade.

“We looked for you when they called for clean up.” I could hear the gravel and broken asphalt crunch under their feet as they moved forward into the herd.

“I puked last night. Tiny threw me out here. Sobered up just in time to hide in the fridge.” I started swinging harder, taking several with one blow. If they’d had expressions, they would have been confused. After all, I was one of them.

We met where the alley opened into the outer ring. 15 turned the flamethrower off, not wanting to burn me, and we took the remaining ones out with our blades.

“New look, Sarge?”

“Yeah, I told you I puked. This smelled better than what I was wearing. Or at least I think that’s why I changed, some things are a little blurry. Have you guys seen the noob?”

“No I heard he got tossed, when we were upstairs. Tiny was busy,” said 22.

“I thought he got tossed with you Sarge,” 15 said as he looked me over.

“Yeah, a lot of things are blurry.” I said as I turned towards the ring. “How many crews they send out?”

“Just us. Herd was pretty centralized here.”

“You sure they threw the noob out with me?”

“That’s what he heard.”

“You guys can go back in. I’ll circle the ring once to see if I can find him, or at least what’s left.” 22 started for the door. 15 paused, like he knew something was up.

“You sure, Sarge?”

“You haven’t been with us long enough to know an order. Let’s go,”

“Listen to him 15. Thanks Dan. Cedric has me shook up a little. I just need to clear my head.” 22 smiled. I’d never used his name before. I knew I was going to get put down before him, so distance didn’t seem so important anymore. I walked away into the outer ring. I needed to find the noob, so I could put my axe right between his eyes.

I followed the ring, heading in the direction he’d ran from me. There wasn’t a trail. The herd and the breeze had muddled the tracks. Every so often I’d see a zombie with a few bolts in him so I knew I was going the right way. I walked a few more meters, and in the distance I could see the crossbow on the ground. He’d dropped it. Why? There were plenty of bolts in the bag, from what I’d seen he didn’t use them all.

I looked ahead I could see a dumpster, and the gear bag besides it. The dumpster was right on the other side of the alley where we’d started. I hadn’t noticed how far I had walked. I guess being undead, distance had no meaning. I could see from the tracks in the dirt the dumpster had been moved at least a few times recently.  

I pushed it to the side. There was a hole in the wall, just big enough for a person without gear. He’d dropped the bag, and the bow, when he saw the tunnel, and crawled in.

The outer ring was supposed to be secure. It was when we built it. Someone had opened this tunnel into the city, but who? I wanted to know, but more importantly I wanted to find the coward. I backed into the tunnel, really more of a crawl space, and pulled the handle welded to the back of the dumpster closing it as I backed in. Normally I wouldn’t back into anything, but what was the worst that could happen? I was already dead.

I crawled downwards a few meters when the space suddenly opened into a room. I stood up turning around in a very dim light.  Looking up, I could see I was in an old basement. The windows on the floor above were mostly boarded up. I could see them because the floor above had all but collapsed, leaving some studs and rotted floor boards. There were a few doors at the tops of stairs along the walls leading up to the ground floor. They were crudely made, and had obviously been made after the fall. Most were dusty and hadn’t been used recently.  Two were cleared. One lead to the Go Go, and it was closed. The other was slightly ajar. He’d gone through that one.

The stairs creaked as I climbed them. I could hear the music blaring from the other door. They must be opening early today, I thought. I opened the door slowly. It lead into a storeroom, probably the Colonel’s but I didn’t know for sure. I could see a partially covered window past the boxes and clutter.

When I got to it, it was locked. He hadn’t gone out this way. I stepped back to see the rest of the room. The boxes were medical supplies and junk food. The Colonel had been holding out on the rest of the city. I could make out something slumped in the corner. I sniffed the air. Raw meat and iron wafted from whoever it was. It had to be the noob.

I could see the cowards head peeking out from under his coat. I raised my axe. I could split his head open and then eat him. Fitting, since he’d killed me. I’d probably turn immediately.

The doc said giving into the urge and feeding, probably made the process speed up. One of the goons would find me and put me down later. I raised the axe higher and then put it down. I cleared my throat instead. If the goons didn’t find me I might get out into the city, and hurt someone who mattered. I cleared my throat again.

“Do you always take a nap after shooting a man in the back?”

He jumped to his feet. “Holy shit you’re not dead.” He smiled wide. He was glad to see me? He wasn’t a coward, he was fucking nuts. I raised my axe. He looked startled and started to retreat.

“I found you face down in the dirt, no pulse. Are you dead?”

“Undead,” I said lowering my axe. He wet himself as he started shaking. “You didn’t kill me did you?”

“If you’re going to eat me, get it over with. I can’t imagine I taste good.”

I started laughing, “What’s your name noob?”

“Michael,” he stammered. “Why?”

“Because I always name my food. Last burger I ate was named Chuck.” He started crying a little. I think I smiled, but I can’t be sure because I was losing feeling in my face.

“I’m sorry Michael, but you have to admit it was a little funny.” He looked me in the eyes.

“Cherry was in here when I found the room, at least I think it was her, they beat her up bad.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, she didn’t say anything, she was unconscious. I heard Tiny and the goons coming up the stairs so I hid. They dragged her off.”

“Then you fell asleep?” I was beginning to think I was going to have to kill him again.

“I couldn’t go back to the ring, there was a herd coming in. I couldn’t go to the Go Go, and I can’t get out of here. I sat down waiting to die. Must have dozed off.”

“How’d you get in here?”

“After I found your body I started running back into the ring. I don’t know why, I just ran. I saw the dumpster and the tunnel. Some of the goons were coming out of it. They didn’t see me. So I dropped the bow trying to shuffle like I was dead.” I slumped down next to him. My body was starting to stiffen, and even though I couldn’t feel much, I hurt.

“One of them saw me. He was about to shoot when he heard the herd. They threw some bags of stuff in the dumpster and crawled back in.”

Odd I thought. We reused everything. No one was making anything new. We didn’t throw things away.


“What was in the bags?” He shuffled his feet, like he was searching for an answer.

“I don’t know. I waited as long as I could by the dumpster and then crawled into the tunnel. The goons were better than the herd, I thought. I’m not sure anymore.”

Why did the Go Go goons have a secret passage?  Who shot me? Michael wasn’t  going to be much help, so I decided to go back to the tunnel.

“Noob, you got two choices. Since you didn’t shoot me I won’t kill you.” He looked relieved and somewhat surprised.

“Decent of you.” He smiled a little bit.

“Don’t smile. I’m less than a day from eating your face off. Not much to smile about from my end.”  He jumped to attention like I had just called a drill.

“You want to go out the tunnel and see what’s in the bags, or watch for goons at the entrance?”

“Neither,” he mumbled.

“Fine I guess I could just eat your face off now,” I reached for him. “Stand still, dammit I’ve got to get used to this.”

“The herd’s dead, right?”

“Deader than me.”

“Fine. I’ll dumpster dive.” He started for the door, as I struggled to stand.

“Michael give me a hand.” I reached out for him. Ten minutes ago I was going to kill him, now he was my only life line. That was irony. Not Abe irony, but still irony. He gently grabbed my arm, and started to pull.

“It’s not going to come off damn it. Well not yet. I think it takes a while to rot.” We walked from the storage room into the basement, and it was clear. He started to crawl up the tunnel. He was about half way up, when I heard the Go Go door start to open. I ducked under the stairs as fast as I could. I could smell the raw meat and iron. This time was different, than last, I could taste the meat, and it tasted good. I could hear the footsteps as they came down the stairs. I held still, even though every instinct I had told me to lunge, to feed, to feast.

Tiny walked past me first, not seeming to notice. Like the colonel he was a man of many vices, food being the most obvious. He weighed at least 350, and he used that weight to demolish anyone in his way.

“Why can’t we keep the fucking chips in the bar?” He muttered to himself as he started up the second set of stairs. “I’m getting tired of the stairs.”

He entered the other building. I moved to under the other stairs. I could smell meat again, but different than people. I scanned the room to see what else was here. I could hear scurrying sounds in the wall behind me, as dust began falling on my face. I looked up, as a rat poked its head from a hole, and the rest of it followed. It dropped on me.

Being dead was an advantage. It could crawl on me all I day and I couldn’t feel it. It crawled around my chest sniffing the vest. Maybe the biker had some food in his pockets. It stopped on my chest looking up at me. Maybe I had a pet. Then it bit me. I was the food.

The door opened above. I could hear the boards creak under tiny’s weight. I grabbed the rat, pulling it away from my face, Tiny thudded down the stairs. The rat squirmed in my hand, as Tiny reached the bottom. The rat started to squeak, I squeezed it. Blood burst from its mouth. I could smell the blood, it smelled delicious. It smelled like life. It smelled like salvation. I thrust the rat’s head into my mouth and bit. Its head tore loose from its body and it crunched in my mouth. I tried to savor it, but I could feel the frenzy coming.

“You’ve looked better, Sarge.” Tiny was standing over me holding a gun in one hand and a half empty bag of cheetos in the other. “I guess I’ll finish the job now.”

“Hey Sarge, you gotta see what was in the dumpster.” Michael shouted as a duffle bag slid down the tunnel. Tiny turned and I leapt as fast as I could, which wasn’t very fast, but Tiny was slower. I pushed him to the ground. I wanted to eat him. I need to tear into his flesh, but I maintained control as we grappled for his belt knife.

“Finished?” I couldn’t get the rest of the words out, my vocal chords were stiffening.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Tiny said as he used his weight to crush me to the ground. “You ain’t full on zombie yet. Never did like you.” His fist slammed into my face. I grabbed again for his knife.


“Why?” He looked down at me, puzzled.


“Colonel said you knew too much.”  He slammed his massive hand into my face again.

“Watered down booze? Mugging passed out drunks? I don’t care.” I almost got my hands on his knife. He pulled back a little laughing.

“You didn’t even fucking know?” His belly rolled with his hard laughs. I grabbed for his knife again.

This time I got it, and thrust it into his fat belly. He started punching harder. I heard my nose snap, and then I saw the axe split his skull. So much blood, so much delicious blood. I wiggled the knife trying to free his guts.

“Sarge, snap out of it.” I looked to see Michael standing over me, Tiny’s pistol pointing at my head. “Sarge, you still in there?”

I spit a piece of Tiny’s flab out of my mouth. “Barely,” I growled.

“You’re not too far gone yet? The blood must be triggering you.” I hoped he was right. He kept the pistol pointed at me. “As long as you’re still good you need to see this.” He opened the bag, dumpling it out. I looked at the stuff, books, and sketch pads. Michael was pointing at a charcoal of me and Cedric.

“That’s you.” I nodded.

“Who’d draw a picture of you?” I struggled to push the last of Tiny off of me.

“Cherry,” I struggled for the sounds, “drew it.” What did they do to her? I could feel my flesh lust residing a little, but my blood lust was raging. Michael helped me to my feet. I ripped the picture from her sketch pad folding it as I put it in my pocket.

“I need to go into the Go Go. I need to find Cherry, and settle a score.” He looked sympathetically at me. I paused for a minute, words were getting hard to find.

“I won’t be coming out, but I could use your help.”

“I owe Cedric, Sarge. What’s the plan?”

“We walk in the door, and go straight for the colonel.” Michael handed me the axe, which I tucked into the back of my jeans, then started to hand me the gun. I waved it away. “Shoot me if I try to eat anyone that doesn’t deserve it.” He nodded, putting the pistol in his jacket pocket.

“You look like a fucking zombie, Sarge. Won’t get ten feet.” I felt my face. Tiny had shoved my nose half way into my head.

“Here use this,” Michael said as he tied his do rag around my face. Having them think I might rob them would get me further than them thinking I was a zombie.

I opened the door into the Go Go. The music was blaring and the dancers were on stage, but the club was empty, other than a few goons at the bar. No colonel. As long as the goons didn’t look up we had the advantage. I glanced at the dancers as we walked by. There was a new one, she started grabbing at me.

We were halfway to the bar when a goon turned around. “We ain’t open yet. How the fuck did you get in?” I grasped for a response.

“Tiny let us in, special show upstairs,” Michael said. The goons settled a little, as we walked towards them. There were only three. We could probably take them if we could get close enough, and Michael didn’t panic.

We were close enough now I could smell their meat. The goon turned towards me.

“Which girls?” I grabbed my axe and swung.  He fell before the other two could even move. Michael shot one in the stomach. His aim still sucked. The other one lunged at me thrusting a knife into my side. I tried biting him but the bandana got in the way.

Michael quickly pulled him off of me, before I could bite him.

“Where’s the Colonel motherfucker,” Michael hissed as he pushed his pistol into the goon’s temple. I pulled down my bandana, ready to bite.

“Right here,” the colonel said as Michael’s brains splattered all over my face. I could smell them, and the gunpowder from the Colonel’s shotgun.

“Damn, Donovan. You’ve seen better days haven’t you?” He walked around the bar keeping the shot gun aimed at me. The goon moved, closer grabbing his knife sticking out of my side and twisting it.

“I can’t feel it you moron.”


“Too bad,” he said stooping to grab Michael’s pistol. I brought my knees into his chest as quickly as I could, pulling him between me and the shotgun barrel. He stood up just as the gun went off. The blast ripped through his chest pushing me backwards. As I fell, I ripped the knife out of my side, slashing it towards the colonel. He dove for the pistol, but I grabbed it first.

He looked at me as I oriented the gun between his eyes. “It was nothing personal Donovan, just business. Without the dancers I don’t have a club.” I waved the pistol gesturing him towards the dancers.

“I,” I moaned, “Don’t… know what… you’re talking about.”

“Sorry to hear that, you always paid your bills.” We reached the stage glass, and he unlocked the door. The dancers stopped dancing. I could smell their blood, and their meat.

“You sick… fuck… they’re alive.” As he walked over towards the girls, all of them cowered away from him, as much as their chains allowed, except the new one. She was mumbling and grabbing towards me. I kept the pistol on the Colonel as I shambled towards her. I pulled her blonde wig off as I peeled back layers of sealed zombie flesh from her face. Cherry. The Colonel started to run. I shot him in the leg as I stripped the rest of the undead from Cherry. He’d sewn her mouth shut, except for a small opening in the middle. I looked at her and turned to him.

“They had to eat Donovan, but I couldn’t have them talking.” I ran towards him, shoving the pistol in his mouth. I couldn’t pull the trigger, and I knew that. All the blood and brains I’d turn on the spot. I’d eat him, but then I’d turn on Cherry and the other dancers. I couldn’t risk that. “Keys,” I said pulling the gun from his mouth. He fumbled in his pocket pulling the key out and trying to hand it to me.

“You do.” I gestured the gun towards Cherry. He waddled towards her unlocking her chains. With her free hand she gave him a right cross that made Tiny seem weak. As he fell to the floor she grabbed the key and finished unlocking herself. I kept the pistol trained on him. Cherry unlocked the other dancers. I could feel myself getting weaker. I tried to say something. “Arrghwa dalt,” is all that came out.

“He’s turning. Kill him now!” the Colonel shouted. Cherry walked towards me and gestured for my knife. I handed it to her. He was right. She took the knife and I closed my eyes.

“Fuck you asshole,” she said. I opened my eyes to see Cherry and the others girls attacking the colonel more savagely than any undead.  I put my hand on her shoulder. She turned quickly to face me. I could see the broken stitches hanging from her mouth.

I pointed at the colonel with the pistol and gestured towards the back door. She pulled the other girls off of him,

“Let’s get him up girls.” The dancers yanked him to his feet. And dragged him to the door, he was barely conscious and started to cry. I pried the bar off the door, and they drug him outside.

“Please don’t do this,” he sobbed. “Don’t leave me out here. I don’t stand a chance. I can barely walk.” He got to his feet and showed how he couldn’t put weight on the leg I’d shot. I walked over to him pointing the gun at his head.

“Thank you Donovan.” He closed his eyes waiting for the kill shot, that wasn’t coming. I pointed the gun down quickly and shot him in the gut. The gut shot would immobilize him, and I knew any deads in the outer ring would hear the shot and come for him. Besides, all the fat drenched blood smelled delicious.

I could feel the frenzy coming on- the sweat, flesh and blood. I tried to put the gun to my head. I couldn’t bring my arm above my waist. I was losing control fast. I lifted my hand towards Cherry, the pistol loosely dangling from it. She took the gun, stepping back, and pointed it towards me.

“I’m sorry Donovan,”

I knew she was. I could see it in her eyes. Even as mine were finishing their necrotic glaze, I could still see her sorrow. I shambled a little closer, and leaned my head onto the point of her revolver. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell her how much she and Cedric had meant to me. I was too far gone, my vocal chords stiff. I reached into my pocket and gave her the folded piece of paper. She opened the sketch she had made of Cedric and I. I couldn’t say what I was feeling, but I hoped my gesture told her everything.

I shut my eyes. I could smell the gunpowder as everything went black.

END.

 

By DS Maiorca