Chet & Floyd vs. The Apocalypse: Volume 1 (6 page)

Chapter 12

The nightly feast was in full swing.
The delicious and gamey smell of meat wafted all over the place. It was fragrant and foul all at the same time.

Chet and Floyd had already eaten their share for their toil in the pit.
They no longer struggled with the morality of it all. They just hoped it was dog and wolfed it down. It wasn’t enough food to fill them, so the hunger pangs weren’t kept at bay for long. They could feel it in the hollowness of their bellies and hear it in the rumblings of their stomachs.

Chet rubbed his complaining gut and waxed nostalgic.
“Floyd?”

“What?”

“What do you think our chances are tomorrow?”

“Slim to none
,” Floyd said. He rolled over, turning his back to Chet. His body hurt. And the hundred superficial wounds from his gun didn’t help any. He couldn’t get comfortable.

“You are such a worry wart Floyd.
I have a feeling about this, and I can assure you that things will be fine,” Chet said. “We are going to have an adventure tomorrow Floyd, and you know how I like to think of times past whenever I come to a crossroad in life.”

“How could I forget
?” Floyd said.

“I’m thinking about women Floyd.”

“Oh no, Chet. I don’t want to talk to you about women,” Floyd said.

“I can’t help it.
It’s been so long since I felt the touch from the weaker sex.”

“It’s the ‘fair’ sex.
Not the weaker sex.”

“Sex is never fair Floyd
,” Chet said.

“The fair sex is in reference to the woman being fair.
Like ‘the lady fair,’” Floyd said.

“I bet sex with you is always rated
‘fair’,” Chet said. “Can I go on?”

“I wish you wouldn’t
,” Floyd said.

“Oh, how I miss the touch of the
‘fair’ sex. Do you like how I fixed it Floyd? Good. How I miss making love on a woman.”

“To a woman
,” Floyd said.

“What?”

“You miss making love
to
a woman. Not making love
on
a woman.”

“Floyd I never asked your opinion on how to make love
,” Chet said. “I will make love any way I want to! You can just shut your mouth Floyd! I will make love on, to, in, out, over, behind, under and through a woman if I want.” Chet began to twitch with aggravation.

“I don’t have a problem with what you do
,” Floyd said. “It’s just annoying when you mix up phrases.”

“Excuse me for not having a Harvard education like you Floyd
,” Chet said.

“I don’t have a Harvard education.”

“I know, so shut up with all your
haughty airs. I’m trying to relive something here. This could be our last night Floyd. This could be it for us. I need to enjoy this moment by thinking about my past moments. I need to center what Chet is and what he has meant to this world. I am centering the chi of my legacy. I need to prepare to bequeath Floyd.” Chet looked so downtrodden that Floyd regretted what he’d said.

“I’m sorry Chet.
Please continue.”

“No.
That’s okay Floyd. I don’t have much more to say on the subject of women. It’s true that I didn’t have much experience with them before things went sour, and I won’t likely now,” Chet said.

“Look, I’m truly sorry about messing with you.
I’m sure you’ll find somebody soon,” Floyd said.

“I’ve never been good with women Floyd.
How do you even meet one?”

“You just go up to one and strike up a conversation
,” Floyd said. “Find some common ground and build on it. When was the last time you picked up a woman?”

“It was that woman that we were going to eat.
We were going to kill her, but we couldn’t. Then those other guys did. She got whacked over the head and strapped to a truck bed, and she’s probably long eaten by now.”

Floyd thought for a moment.
“There is definitely room to build on that,” he said. “Look, Chet, you just need to forget about women. You’re probably thinking about them because we’re in a place where people congregate. Although it’s a little odd that you’re thinking about developing a relationship with someone when you’re probably going to be dead in a few hours.”

“I’m an optimist
Floyd .”

“I know you are Chet.
People just don’t live like this anywhere else. This is a weird situation here, but it won’t last. It will fall apart like the rest. Hopefully tonight.”

“It just such a romantic place here.
I get to thinking about the women,” Chet said.

Floyd smelled the grease of the cooking meat, heard the howls of starving dogs and the wails of wounded people.
He looked at his unwashed hands, streaked with dirt, filth and blood.

“Your idea of romance is very unique.”

“Floyd, can you please tell me about the last time you made love in a woman?”

“Go to sleep Chet
,” Floyd said.

Chet did just that and
, almost immediately, began to snore. Floyd gave Chet a little kick to get him to stop . They never slept in too close proximity because of Chet’s log sawing.

The last time Floyd spoke to Chet about it Chet flew completely off the handle.
He yelled at Floyd that he had an apnea and that he was sorry his disease was keeping him awake. He assured Floyd vehemently that he would do his best to suffocate in silence so that he could get his precious sleep. Floyd let it drop.

Chapter 13

“You’re not looking so good Floyd,” Chet said as he slapped Floyd on his scabbed up arms. Floyd jerked his arm back and shoved Chet.

“Knock it off
,” Floyd said. “I’m not doing so good. We need to get out of here.”

“You haven’t changed your mind since last night?
You’re not settling in to our new existence?”

“Not really.
I think we could do better than this,” Floyd said. They watched as the gathered crowd prepared for the nightly speech from the dog-men.

“What is my part in the plan again?”
Chet asked.

“I’m glad you asked me that Chet because I want to make sure we’re absolutely clear on this.
You do nothing. Your part in this plan is to stay back and do nothing. You don’t lift a finger. You don’t move a muscle. You…do…nothing. That is your part in this.”

“That doesn’t sound like a lot of responsibility
,” Chet said.

“It wouldn’t be for a normal person
,” Floyd said. “But for you I think it’s a pretty substantial request. I’m calling on your restraint here.”

“I am a man of self denial.
I am like a monk.”

“You are like a pederast during
‘Naked Tickle Day’ at Disneyland. You have no self denial,” Floyd said.

“You are questioning my discipline!”
Chet said. “That is my whole idiom!” He began to twitch. “I never do that to you. I don’t go for personal attacks.”

“You just slapped my injured arm.”

“It doesn’t hurt like your words Floyd! Sticks and stones be damned, you’ve
harmed
me Floyd.”

“I apologize.
Just stick to the plan,” Floyd said.

“I promise I will.
I just want to feel
utilized
. I want to make sure I’m doing my part,” Chet said.

“You are.
You are like the lookout. You are always ready for action Chet.”

“I am!”
Chet said.

“Just don’t take any
,” Floyd said. Chet watched while the ladder descended into the ring. “Almost time to start now. Here we go.”

“What about an audible?”
Chet said.

“No audibles
,” Floyd said.

“There is always an audible Floyd
,” Chet said. “When a quarterback goes to the line and doesn’t like what he sees he calls an audible.”

The black clad
dog-men were working their way down the ladder and onto the center of the ring. The crowd was already working out their first bets of the night.

“No audibles.
Just keep to the plan,” Floyd said.

“Forget it then
,” Chet said.

“Chet we have to do this now!
The plan has to start now. We can’t just forget it.”

“I need
options
Floyd. I need a back door. I need to be able to run away from the fire if it comes.”

Floyd looked in desperation at the mingling men in the center of the ring.
If they didn’t do this soon, all would be lost until tomorrow.

“You want an audible?”
Floyd asked.

“I do.”

“Okay you can do something under these circumstances only.
ONLY!” Floyd said.

“I’m listening
, enraptured with your words, Floyd,” Chet said.

“That’s great
,” Floyd said. “You are allowed to divert from the plan only in the happenings of these specific circumstances: if something happens where we end up naked, burned and treed, you can call audible.”

“There aren’t any trees down here Floyd.”

“We don’t have time to argue.
Take it or leave it,” Floyd said.

“I’ll take it
,” Chet said. “It’s always good to have an out.”

“Glad you think so
,” Floyd said. He held up his sawed off shotgun and poked the muzzle out the bars. The black clad dog-men had finally gotten themselves together, and the leader was about to speak.

“We have a
—heep—great show for you tonight!” the leader said and raised his hands to the smattering cheers.

“Fire in the hole Floyorama!”
Chet yelled.

Floyd pulled the trigger and closed his eyes.
This time the feel of hot metal slivers slicing up his arm - with a side order of powder burns - didn’t happen. The shotgun kicked back.

The distance from the dog leader was lengthy
, but Floyd’s aim was perfect. The dog-man’s chest exploded in a wide circle of small holes, shoving him backwards in a spray of blood.

The other dog
-men looked at their leader in disbelief. The crowd was stunned into shocked silence. Floyd raised his gun to the person in charge of opening the cages. He had the man’s attention.

“Do you think he knows what you want?”
Chet asked.

“I hope so
,” Floyd said. He nodded his head once at the man who looked at him, mouth agape.

“Does he know how out of range he is?”

“He will if you keep yelling,” Floyd said. The shock had worn off, and the dog-men began yelling and pointing at Chet and Floyd’s cell. They didn’t attack out of respect for Floyd’s gun. They were calling to the rest of their men from the top of the pit. Floyd saw them scrambling for weapons as a couple ladders were lowered into the pit.

Floyd kept his shotgun on the man who ran the controls.
The guy still stood there with a scared look on his face. Men with guns began to slip down the ladders into the pit.

Floyd panicked.
“Audible Chet!” he screamed.

“I’m not naked though Floyd!”
Chet screamed back at him. “You said under no circumstances except for these specific instances…” He would have kept going, but Floyd turned the gun on him, shutting him up.

Floyd heard the first bullets fired into their cell ping off the bars or thud into the stacked cinder blocks that made up the back wall.

“Audible Chet!” Floyd yelled. “I don’t understand why you choose this to be the first time you listen to me!” Their cell door opened, and the dog-men lined up for a clearer shot.

Floyd turned his shotgun back to the men and fired.
The shell exploded in the chamber, knocking Floyd to the ground with a myriad of fresh wounds. Chet hit the sand from the sound of gunfire.

Bullets ricocheted in a tornado of metal in the cell.
He felt a little guilty as he shoved his body behind the unconscious Floyd and waited for death to come. Chet opened his eyes only to have a bullet fly so close it cut his eyelashes that then fell like dust in his eye.

The smoke began to clear
, and the shooting stopped. Chet lay still, eyes closed tightly, amazed he was still alive and uninjured.

“I can’t wait to tell Floyd about this
,” Chet thought. “I could teach him a lot about prowess.”

Chet patted Floyd’s back softly.
“You just sleep on buddy. I’ll take care of this.”

Chet’s backpack was within easy reach.
He slipped his hand into it and came out with a fistful of tarnished throwing stars.

He made a fist with his right hand and tucked three stars into the folds between his fingers.
He could hear the dog-men begin to advance on the cell. “Try to sell me a pig-in-a-poke, will they? Their time has come,” he whispered.

“That doesn’t make any sense
,” Floyd groaned softly. “Are you using me as a shield?”

“No time to explain your position.
Glad to see you’re awake,” Chet said.

“Am I your bullet shield?”
Floyd said.

“Not now Floyd.
I have a few dogs to fry on the Barbie.” Chet shoved Floyd forward. Floyd popped up from the momentum.

The dog
-men fired at Floyd. Their bullets thudded softly in the sand around him. Floyd could do nothing but raise his hand against the stinging sand.

Chet screamed like a banshee
as he hurled the stars in his fist into the mass of black clad men. The flying metal hit. The dog-men cursed and fell, holding onto abused flesh. Chet sent two more fistfuls of stars at the men before they realized they were hurt less than first thought.

Floyd loaded his shotgun and fired.
The bullet exploded in the gun, sending him hurtling back into the cell.

“Damn it!”
Floyd yelled.

“Would you cut it out with that stupid gun?”
Chet screamed as he sent another whirl of stainless steel at their foes. “You’re going to kill yourself with that thing.”

Floyd lay in the cell with his face in the sand.
“I think that’s enough shooting for me for one day.”

Chet took out a wave star, barrel rolled forward and came up in
to what he called his “patent-pending reverse twisty-stance throw.” Its awkward look belied its accuracy. The wave star hit the cage opening lever, halving it.

All the cages opened at once in a frightening rasp of rusted metal.
Bedlam ensued. Crazed humans and starved dogs ran out en masse towards the center of the ring.

As the cell doors opened, Chet ripped off his belt and lashed it around their cell door.
He pulled the door closed and held it fast in an instant.

The freed people, black clad dog
-men and fighting dogs collided in a torrent of gun blasts, ripping fangs and flesh-tearing nails.

Dogs tore into any foe within reach
, some stopping to feed on the corpses of their kill. Others, who were blood-frenzied, killed, turned and killed again. The freed humans fought like depraved serial killers, seeing this as their only chance for revenge or escape.

The
dog-men were the first to die as their shock lost them the precious seconds they needed to protect themselves. The slaughter within the pit matched the savagery in the spectator stands. The dog-men’s deaths made the people above scramble and fight for the food and supplies used for betting. They fell on those protecting the bounty, rending and killing for a pound of meat or the flint and steel they bet and lost the night before.

The whole operation fell like a house built on sand.
Chet closed his eyes to the confounding violence. Bodies flailed against their barred cell. People and animals died. The horde piled upon themselves. People fell from the above, dead or dying from wounds. Some few escaped with a pitiful handful of stolen goods. Most weren’t lucky enough to leave with their skins.

Within ten minutes, all was silent.
When the quiet stretched on for a few minutes, Chet looked at Floyd, who shrugged his shoulders.

“Hello?”
Chet called. There was no answer.

“Hello?
Anyone alive?” Nothing.

“I think we’re the only ones
,” Floyd said. “You ready to leave?”

Chet looked at Floyd and wiped a gob of gore off his face.
“You know what Floyd? Yes I am. You can’t stay in one place too long before it starts wearing thin on you. Know what I mean? Boca Raton stops being Boca Raton after a few months. You might as well be staying at the Super 8 near the Saint Louis Airport.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Right behind you Floyd.”