Humanity's Death: A Zombie Epic (17 page)

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Authors: D.S. Black

Tags: #ghosts, #zombies, #zombie action, #apocacylptic, #paranoarmal, #undead adventure, #absurd fiction, #apocacylptic post apocacylptic, #undead action adventure books

BOOK: Humanity's Death: A Zombie Epic
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And that was then. And now was now.

He reached out and held that picture. He laid in
his bed, pulled it close to his chest, closed his eyes, and for a
split moment he thought he might beam back to that time, when
smiles were the norm, and bed crumbs were the worst of his
problems; but now he had to fight the dead, keep the flock in line,
and face the dreary world around him; he held his picture, and kept
his eyes shut, ignored the stinging tears; and at some point, he
went to sleep, and dreamt of that moment in time.

6

He awoke to clanging and banging against his chamber
door. Mary Jane's voice was wild and excited. “Open the fucking
door! She’s going to kill him!” His dreamy flash back of
yesteryear’s remembrances was all but faded and gone. He shoved
himself out of bed and marched to the door. She certainly would not
be up in such a fuss and a tizzy for no reason. The door creaked
loudly as a opened up and the sweaty face of his end of the world
girlfriend screamed at him. “You go in here and leave me to deal
with that rabble! Every fucking goddamn night! Now that fool friend
of yours has felt up one of the younger girls and my sister has him
held at gun point and is bat shit out of her mind.”

“The younger girls? Who?”

“I think she is only 13!”

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

“You told him not again! You told him not—”

He held his finger to her mouth, “And I meant
it.”

He marched through the dark corridor. Some
sunlight beamed through windows near the top of the hall. Again?
Again! He rushed through the double exit doors and moved over the
cobble streets. He could hear the crowd gathered and the people
fuming. Mary Jane, with her long, strong atheltic legs, darted in
front of him. “Here he comes Sarah!”

He walked up and pushed his way through a crowd
of sweaty excited spectators. And then, in the middle of the town’s
courtyard was Vice on his knees with Sarah Ann standing a few feet
from him aiming a sawed off shot gun directly at his head. “Did she
tell you what he did Duras? The son of bitch go drunker than drunk
last night. And guess what? He walked off and said he had to take a
piss but instead followed little Margie home and felt her up!”
Sarah Ann said.

“Don’t fucking listen to that shit Duras! The
bitch is out of her mind. Too much drink and smoke if you ask me.
Say, do your pal a favor and shoot the fucking whore!”

“Whore?! You sick fuck!” Sarah Anna was
fuming.

“Everybody just shut up for a moment! Where is
Ice Man?”

The Ice Man came out of the crowd as if waiting
for me to call for him. His golden blonde hair looking pert as
ever. “Yes sir, ready and willing.”

“Take him to lock up till I can figure out what
to do.”

“Lock up? What the hell Duras? How long have I
been your right hand man? How fucking long?”

“And how many times have I warned you to stay
away from the younger girls? Now shut up and pray! Because God is
the only hope you have if this turns out to be true.”

Ice Man along with Rhino held him down and tied
his arms then yanked him up and forced him through the streets.
Mary Jane and Sarah Ann came up to Duras.

“So what are you going to do with the cheating
perverted snake?” asked Sarah Ann.

He rubbed his eyes and felt the heat of the
early morning southern sun force its hot rays into his brain. “God
only knows! Hell, I guess we can let the victim decide.”

“No trial?” Mary Jane asked.

“Trial for what? We know he did it. The only
reason he got away with the last girl was because the poor little
lassie along with her whole family got eaten by zombies.” Sarah Ann
said.

“And I told you to deal with it then didn’t I?”
Mary Jane said.

“It’s too early for this.” Duras said.

Mary Jane glared at Duras. “You leave me to deal
with this rabble every night. You go off into that dungeon of yours
and feel sorry for yourself. You don’t think I know what you do?
You think you are the only person that lost your family? Fuck you!”
She slapped his face hard then turned and walked away.

“Go with her will you?” he said to Sarah Ann.
“When she calms down go find the girl Vice felt up and bring her to
the court house. I will have the boys bring Vice down and we will
deal with this once and for all.”

7

A few hours later Duras sat in the judge’s chair
staring out at the seats. The seats were filling up fast by the
many people that wanted to know the fate of Vice. Word had spread
quickly that the young girl had already made her decision but
refused to tell anybody what it was.

“What say you young woman? What will the fate of
Vice be?”

A hush fell over the entire room. She looked up
at Duras with glowing blue eyes. Then she turned and faced Vice.
“The Pitts! Take him to the Pitts!” Duras grabbed the gavel and
slammed it hard. “You heard the girl! She wants the Lord to choose
this man’s fate.” He pointed the gavel at Vice. “Your fate will be
decided by the Trail of the Damned!”

He left the court house with mixed feelings.
Vice was a loyal friend and solider. But he was also a pervert. He
walked over to what used to be a pub. It was still a pub of course.
A post-apocalyptic drinking hole where his men drank and blew off
steam.

The smell of home grown tobacco and whiskey hit
him as he walked through the double glass doors. He sat down at the
bar, “Whiskey.” Rhino filled a shot glass and handed it to him.

“Come on Duras! What the fuck!” Ice Man said
behind him.

Duras turned and stared at him, took a drink of
whiskey, and slammed the shot glass onto the table and stared at
him.

Ice Man continued. “Vice has done more for this
community than that little girl. Maybe he did wrong, but he is
still a loyal soldier and we need him.”

“What we need is harmony. Without harmony, this
community will perish. If I let him keep getting away with this, I
risk losing the trust of the people. If I lose the trust of the
people, this town will fall.”

“Hell, I ain’t never liked his ass anyway. Let
him die.” Said Swirly. Swirly was a wild eyed African American girl
with frizzy hair. Her pupils were always larger than the white part
of her eye.

“Shut up you damn whore!” Said Rhino.

Swirly rose and charged him. He grabbed her and
pushed her against the wall and forced a kiss onto her lips. “Now
get your ass back over there!”

“Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” Swirly left the
building.

Duras took another shot of whiskey. Then one
more. “Gentleman!” He started. “The Vice issue is a second hand
compared to the Tree Folk. Listen to me!”

All his men were there, except Vice of course.
He was locked away in the court house holding cell till the hour of
his judgment. Without Vice, his men turned to Rhino and Ice Man for
their guidance. It’s a group of men with unknown or well-known back
grounds. Some maybe were military. Others may be convicts.

Someone handed Duras a joint and he gladly took
a long drag, blew out the smoke, and coughed hard for a moment.

One of the men was smiling, “they call that the
Blue Moon boss.” He said.

Another solider said, “What about Vice? We can’t
do this to him. No matter what he did. I say kick the girl out!
Hell, its Vice that keeps em all safe!”

Duras looked at his slather of filthy soldiers
with arms crossed. “Soon we are going to battle!” He threw back
another shot of whiskey. “We are going to burn Okona out.”

“Yeah but it sure would be nice to have Vice!”
Rhino said.

He knew they were right. Vice was an invaluable
asset. “He will survive the Trail.” he said.

He sat there for a moment. No one spoke. “Well…
the Seekers should be ready by now.” He said.

“Dirty rats! I hate those bastards!” Screamed
Ice Man.

“They are necessary.” He said.

“It’s not normal.” Said Rhino.

“They do enjoy their job. But sacrifices are
necessary in this world. In this environment, only the wicked
survive. It is deathly important to show both cruelty and justice
during these darkest of days.”


I caught
one of em eating the flesh right off the fucking bones. The guy's
strapped to a table. He was screaming while that blonde headed
Seeker carved him up like a roast.” He stopped for a second. “Then
you will never believe what the asshole did next. He fucking hissed
at me! Literally fucking
hissssssssed
.” Ice Man said.

A nervous laughter filled the room.

“I just don’t get it boss. Why?” Another solider
asked.

“Evil wins the day. It is that simple.” Duras
said.

“Why not just bring those folks into the
community? Why hack em up and use em like that?” Ice Man asked.

“You know what Vice would say?” Duras asked.

“What he always says. ‘People need
entertainment. People need religion. People need justice and
punishment. The Trail gives them both and the Seekers make the
trial possible.”

“That’s why he is my right hand man. When the
Seekers find people wandering out there—those people are lost,
starving, and going to die anyway.” He took another drag from the
joint. Smoke filled the air.

“Why don’t we just use the ones that are already
dead?”

“The Trial is a spiritual experience. It must
have a certain level of depth and mystic appeal. Sacrifices help
create that. Hell, sacrifices have been part of humanity’s
existence for millenniums. Plus, we can’t take in any more than we
have. We don’t have the food or resources. Speaking of the Seekers.
Time for me to pay them a visit.”

8

He stood and made his way out of the building. He
crossed the peddled roads and heard the sounds of his men behind
him. He walked around to a side entry door on the east wing of his
churchly castle. The Catholics that built this place went out of
their way to create a majestic and medieval building.

He banged on the large mahogany door. Foots
steps were heard. Then the peep slot unlocked and opened.

A man with long blonde hair and a scar ridden
face stared out. His eyes were hollow and black, “Welcome Duras. We
are almost ready. Would you like to come to the séance?”

“Sure, what the hell.”

“Hell has no fury like the power of God.” The
door unlocked and opened. He entered a long hallway lit by torches
mounted on either wall. Paintings of dead saints and apostles hung
between each torch. The blonde Seeker wore a brown robe with a
black hood. He carried a small lantern as he led the way. Duras's
boots clicked against the gray stone floor. As he got closer to the
end another door way came into view. Beyond the door, growls were
heard.

The Seeker opened the door, “This way
Duras.”

“After you, Rusty Ray.” he said. He put up with
the Seekers. But he didn't trust them. He walked through the door
and followed Rusty Ray, never taking his eyes off of him. Rusty Ray
was the leader of the Seekers. He gave Duras the utter creeps.

The smell of death hit Duras hard. He was in a
large circular room filled with chained dead men. They growled,
howled, and reached out for flesh. Their eyes burned a hot white
and their skin hung loosely from their faces. The Seekers had
adorned their body with Kevlar.

“Today’s Trial must be different. It calls for a
level of difficulty due to who is to enter the pit. Duras, why the
face? He broke our community’s laws. Laws given by God. He has
shown himself to be without faith.”

“Just get on with it.”

Rusty Ray looked back at Duras with a smile. But
underneath that smile, Duras was quite sure he sensed hatred.

More Seekers entered form another door. They
were all wearing the same brown and black cloaks. They began
sprinkling water on each dead man’s head and chanting something he
could not understand. Their chant echoed off the stone walls along
with the moans of the dead. They then began hording the dead out of
two separate doors that led to the gates that connected to the
pit.

Duras motioned for the Rusty Ray to get on with
it and to lead the way out.

9

The bells were ringing. People were gathering
quickly.

Inside Duras made his way to his balcony. Mary
Jane waited along with her sister. Her sister had tears streaming
down her face. “I love him. I still love him!” She held a bottle of
wine in her hand. Her hair was disheveled. Mary Jane held her like
a child.

Down below the crowd roared, “Duras! Duras!
Duras!”

Duras stood and picked up the megaphone, “Today
God brings us together for a very special Trial Vice has been a
loyal soldier and friend to many of us. But no one is above the
laws of our community. Our children are special. They are gifts
from God. They must be protected.”

“Let him die! Let him die! Let him die!” they
screamed.

“That is for God to decide, not us! This is why
God gave us the Trial. If he survives his sins are forgiven. If he
dies, then may God have mercy on his soul.”

The crowd roared. The balcony shook under his
feet from their bellowing. He saw the door to the pit open and Vice
was pushed down into the bowl. His face looked mean and ready.
Duras had seen that look before while engaging in battle with the
dead and the living—maybe he would survive this ordeal after
all.

The sword lowered and Vice removed it from the
chain. The doors creaked open. The dead men stumbled out. Their
armor was fitted tightly against their skin dripping bodies. Their
eyes burned hot white. Their hungry moans were barely audible over
the raging crowd.

The first group charged Vice. He swung the
sword. It barely cut into the hard Kevlar. The Seeker’s had taken
the liberty of wrapping it around their necks and put helmets on
their heads. Vice shoved them off of him and circled fast around.
He jumped onto one of their back and jerked backwards on the
helmet. It came off along with half the skin. Vice stepped back,
swung, and cleaved its head.

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