Zombified (Episode 1): Wooneyville (6 page)

"All right, well we're gonna have to go down the fire escape and find some wheels.  Maybe we can take the car you stole to the garage and see if my truck is driveable."

Dana grabbed Joey's shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. 

"I feel so much better now that you're here," she said, smiling and keeping his face close to hers.  "I feel like everything is okay and we're going to kick ass."

Joey grinned.  "I knew there was a reason I loved you--I mean, aside from the mind-blowing sex."

The door cracked; the dead bolt pressed into the frame, splintering the wood. 

"That's our signal, baby."  Joey and Dana made for the back of the apartment, tossing packaged food, bottles of water and beer, and random supplies into the packs.  It only took five minutes to fill the bags, but they were barely out the window and onto the fire escape before the front door gave and the undead were coming.

"Go, go, go!"  Joey ushered Dana down the steps.  They slid down the ladder, landing on the sidewalk beside an overflowing dumpster.  A white coupe was parked up on the curb.  The front right bumper was obliterated and blood streaks ran the length of the passenger side.

"You did some damage, baby!"  Joey gave her a high-five as they hopped into the cramped vehicle.  "I can't believe how fuckin' small this thing is!"  Joey's knees pressed into his chest.  He tried to slide the seat back, but it didn't help. 

Dana eased off the curb and took off down the street.  By the way the front end wobbled and the tranny whined, Joey knew the car was toast.

"Head straight for the garage, Dana--this car is done."

Dana frowned.  "I love this car.  It saved my life!"  She patted the dashboard, looking affectionately at the stuffed animal in the rear window.

They kept to the side roads, heading for Sammy's Service Center.

CHAPTER 9

Joey hefted the tire iron in one hand.  Outside the garage, a few bodies and a bunch of tools sat undisturbed.  The garage was dark and quiet; the bay doors were shut and locked. 

"Looks like Sammy was closed when it happened."  Joey pressed his face to the front window, cupping his eyes.  "Nothing's moving in there."

"Your ride is over here, babe."  Dana stood near a dark green jumbo truck with oversized wheels and chrome bars stretching up and over the cabin.  Four new floodlights were attached to the bar.

"He finished the lights!  Sweet!"  Joey ran over, admiring the new bars and lights.  He stepped up--the bottom of the door started at his stomach--and checked everything out.  "And they move!  Wooo-eeee!  Mounted swivel lights!"

"Umm, baby, won't those attract zombies?" 

Joey frowned.  "Sunnuvabitch!  It figures these brainless fucks would ruin just about everything."  He stepped down.  "The light might help if we have to go off-road." 

"Where are the keys?"  Dana glanced at the office.  "Looks like we gotta do some B and E." 

"You criminal."  Joey winked at her.  He walked to the front door--reinforced glass--and threw the tire iron.  The door shattered, the tire iron clanked around inside, creating a maelstrom of noise. 

Lights flashed and a siren blared--like a car alarm magnified a thousand times. 

Dana covered her ears, making an exaggerated face. 

Joey mouthed a few curses.  He dashed to the counter, catapulted himself over, and fished through the keys hanging on a caulk board.  He grabbed a set and jingled them to show Dana.

She gave him thumbs up and waved him to hurry up.  She didn't see the first zombie, attracted by the alarms, as it wandered into the parking lot.  It was a runner, a young girl in a tattered nightgown.

Joey leapt over the counter, checking around for any useful tools, and looked up to see the creature running in Dana's direction.  It was closing fast and Dana was oblivious, deafened by the obnoxious blaring.

He screamed, gesturing wildly.  The broken glass door swung outward, scratching Joey's forearms, as he charged out of the office.  He pulled the Glock from his waist and took aim.

Dana saw him running, saw him pull out the gun and point it behind her, and she felt her body go cold.  She knew.  She reached for the gun in her back pocket, but it was too late for her to get a clean shot.

Joey fired on the run.  The bullet clipped the zombiette's thigh, but the creature didn't slow down.  It was too close to Dana for another shot. 

Dana spun around, raising the gun, and the zombie girl sprang on top of her.  Dana felt teeth clamp down on her upper arm; she felt jagged fingernails digging into her shoulders and chest.  Dana screamed, trying to point the gun at the zombie.  She pulled the trigger: the shot ripped through the zombie's collarbone and out its back, spraying blood up and to the side. 

The undead girl snarled and tore a chunk of flesh from Dana's arm.

"No!  You fuckin' bitch!"  Joey launched himself at a run, smashing into the eighty-pound zombie.  He tumbled ten feet before regaining balance.  The creature tried to stand, but the impact had broken all its limbs.  Joey didn't waste the bullets.  His fury provoked, Joey stomped and stomped and stomped until there was nothing left of the creature but flesh pudding in a nightgown.

Dana's screams snapped him back to the moment.  Zombies shambled into sight around the garage.  Dana struggled to sit up, trying to tighten a piece of torn fabric around the wound on her arm.

Joey ran over, tears of rage and grief streamed down his cheeks.  "What can I do, baby?  Tell me!" 

"It bit me, Joey!  It fuckin' tried to eat me!"  She wept, sobbing and shaking.  "Oh God, I'm going to be one of them!  Oh God!"  She collapsed on the ground in a ball, crying hysterically.  "Just… leave… me… here…" she choked out between sobs.

"No way."  Joey scooped her up and headed to the truck.  Dozens of zombies closed in around the garage.  As Joey got Dana into the cab, an overweight flesh-eater blasted through a knot of shamblers, gurgling and belching as it ran at Joey.

He buckled Dana in and grabbed her pistol, still clutched in one hand.  He turned as the fat flesh-eater reached for Joey's leg, making to chomp on his calf.  The shot hit the zombie in the top of the head. 

KA-THUMP

The carcass hit the ground hard.  Joey climbed into the driver seat and fired up the green beast--it roared to life, growling. 

"That's right, Bad Betty, you tell them who's in charge now."  He dropped it in gear and drove straight at the gathering mobs.

SPLURT.  CRACK.  BLARF.  SPLAT. 

Bad Betty bounced and rolled, turning zombies into pressurized toothpaste tubes.  Fountains of blood, clumps of brain and organ, and shards of bone spun and sprayed from Betty's tires.  Joey wore a malevolent, possessed grin as he drive in a wide circle, making four passes to mow down every last zombie in the area.

Dana whimpered in the front seat, clutching at her arm.  "It fuckin' burns!" 

Joey shook out of his anger-fueled redneck rampage.  He turned out of the lot, heading for his parents' house outside of town.  Red-treaded trails followed Bad Betty, a road leading to one of the greatest zombie massacres ever recorded.

"Dana, talk to me.  What did you find out about the virus?  Is there a chance you weren't infected?"

Dana licked her lips; she was sweating and looked pale.  "Yeah, there's a slim chance, but I don't know enough to guess what that chance is."

"Tell me what you know--it might be important.  It might help."

"I'm a nurse, Joey.  I don't know much about how viruses and pathogens work on the cellular level."  She shuddered and caught her breath.  "It seemed to attack the nervous system, using it to shut down the organs.  Doctor Hobbes was trying to figure it out when they started waking up."

Joey fished out a bottle of water and a candy bar, passing it over to Dana.  "Try to eat, baby--please.  At least drink the water."

"Okay," she replied in a hoarse voice.  She opened the water and drank slowly, spilling some down her chin.

Shit… I'm losing her
.  Joey bit his lip.  He wanted to scream and curse and run over more zombies.  "What else did you find out, baby?"

"I can't remember.  I'm so tired, Joey."  She leaned against the door, drawing in ragged breaths.

"No you don't!  Stay awake and talk to me."  Joey yanked her over to him, keeping her upright with one arm.

"Whaddafuck," she moaned, swatting at his hand.  She gave up and just let her head come to rest on the seatback. 

"Dana, talk to me.  What did Kelly think about it?"

"She thought it might be some kind of mutated bacteria.  Something that existed in the body naturally."

"Then it might not have been something spread, like a germ, but something that changed things inside of us?  What, like, radiation?" 

"Mmm-hmmm."  Dana was fading, barely able to keep her head from flopping around on the headrest. 

"Come on, baby!"  Joey shook her.  "What could have caused a mutation of something in the human body?"

"I dunno, Joey.  Kelly didn't have a chance to figure it out.  They got her while she was trying to get out of the lab."  Dana sipped the water, choking and coughing. 

"Go slow, baby." Joey rubbed her back.  "What do you think?"

"It could be radiation, but I dunno from what.  Or maybe something in the food or water, some other pathogen that chan… mutat…
uhhhhh
…" Dana collapsed on Joey's lap.  Her skin was cold and clammy.

"Baby, no!"  Joey slammed the brakes.  Bad Betty ground to a halt, ripping a swath of grass from someone's front lawn. 

Joey lifted Dana to a sitting position, cupping her face in his hands.  "Come on, Dana.  Stay with me, baby!"  He patted her cheeks and gently shook her.  Her eyes rolled under the lids and opened briefly--they were bloodshot.

"I can't feel my arms," she murmured.  Her breathing was erratic, coming in short gasps and long, pause-filled exhales.  Dana's lips had traces of blue-black lines at the edges. 

Joey unbuckled her, shifting her against his hip and holding her tight against his chest and shoulder.  He kissed the top of her head, letting tears splash into her dirty blonde hair. 

"Don't you die on me," he said.  Joey squeezed her tight in darkness of the cabin.  Bad Betty chortled and purred, but it wasn't the only noise Joey heard.

UHHHHH… GUHHHH…

The neighborhood vomited zombies from the close-built houses; some fell out of windows with a crash of glass.  One of them clawed its way into the bed of Bad Betty.  It started beating on the rear window of the cab; more were palm slapping and head-butting the doors. 

Joey blocked it out, savoring a few precious moments with Dana--while she was still Dana.  He kissed her head again and, keeping her held close, put Bad Betty into gear. 

The truck bolted backwards, sending the zombie in the bed flying through the night.  Joey slapped it into drive and rammed through the milling groups; the truck plopped over the curb and onto the street.

Joey tore through yards, crushing garden gnomes and splattering zombies, on his hell-bent drive out of downtown Wooneyville.

CHAPTER 10

Bad Betty tore up the driveway, taking the S-curve at a reckless speed, and ground to a halt inches from a closed garage door.  Joey flung open the door, sliding Dana over his shoulder, and hopped out of the truck.

"Ma!"  Joey kicked at the front door.  "It's Joey!  Open up!"

The door finally opened.  A short, wiry-haired lady with thick spectacles stood in the backlit door.  She had a double barrel leveled at Joey's chest.

"Put the fuckin' gun away, Ma--it's me!"

"Joey!  You're alive!"  The shock on her face turned into joy.  Then she spotted Dana hanging lifeless in Joey's arms.  "Dana!  What the hell happened?"

"Long story, Ma."  Joey shoved his way inside, passed through a sliding glass door, and laid Dana on the sofa.  Candles were strewn around on tables, windowsills, and shelves.  "She's sick, Ma.  She got attacked and bit.  I don't know… She's not doing good."

Joey stood up and his mom hugged him fiercely.  She started hacking and sputtering on his shoulder, pulling away to grab the doorframe as the fit ran its course. 

"You chain smokin' again, Gigi?"  That was the family pet name for Joey's Ma, an affectionate reference to her full name: Gisele Giovanna. 

"With all the shit that's going on out there!  Hell yes I'm chain smoking!"  She pulled a smoke from her apron pocket and lit up.  "Good thing I have a stockpile in the garage."  She took a deep pull and shook her head.  "What are we going to do with Dana?  What if she turns nutso on us?"

Joey helped himself to a smoke from Gigi's apron.  "I'll deal with her when that time comes, Ma.  Until then, I'm gonna lock her in the spare bedroom." Joey puffed on the smoke, letting the exhalation dribble out and up.

"Where the hell is everybody, Joey?  I thought we told some people to come here if anything like this happened?  Wasn't that your plan?"  Gigi finished her cigarette, dousing it in the ashtray, and fished out another one.

"That was the plan, but plans get fucked up sometimes."  Joey watched the smoke curl up; he equated humanity's existence to the smoldering tobacco--short and sweet.

"Did you hear from Matty?"

"Nah.  I left him a message, but I dunno where the hell he is right now.  I walked through hell to find her."  He nodded at Dana. 

The house was quiet. 

"Where's Dad?"

"He went to the cabin with Marco yesterday."  She didn't seem too concerned.

"What?!  Have you tried to contact him?" 

"Of course I did, Joey!"  Gigi frowned and stomped into the kitchen.  "He went there with two rifles, a shotgun, and his old revolver--and plenty of ammo!"

"Did you talk to him since this shit happened?"  Joey sat down on one of the barstools surrounding the marble-topped island.  "Is he coming home?"

Gigi took a long drag and stamped out the butt.  "I don't know, Joey.  I couldn't get him on the phone or the radio.  But I know your father.  If he can't get home, he'll hold up in the cabin."