Zombie Street: Part 4

Quinn was able to show us the leadership abilities he had deep within, because he wasn’t fazed by any of the last few minutes.  Perhaps they weren’t leadership abilities, he might have been sick at heart.  Nevertheless, he got us to help him move furniture in front of the door to blockade it.  We moved a couch from the living room and then placed a filing cabinet in the seat of the plaid cushions.  “I’m not feeling very good” the man said.  Quinn and I looked at the man and I replied, “Why don’t you wash up?  You have blood all over your face.”  He nodded in agreement and wandered down the hall to the bathroom.  “Do you think he’s going to be ok?” I asked Quinn.  “He’s going to have to be, or we’re fucked.”  “What should we do now?” I pondered.  “First off, you need to get rid of that wasp spray.  Second, there are a couple of shields upstairs where I found my sword.  I think those will help us for the time being.”  We skipped up the stairs, two at a time, to find the shields posted on the wall.  In the middle of the two swords was a space where the sword had been.  The shields were both a dark burgundy color with a silver outline.  When we retrieved the first shield from the wall, we realized it weighed about fifty pounds.  “I don’t think this going to help us” I said.  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Quinn muttered.  We explored the upstairs; the master bedroom was up there along with a couple of other bedrooms.  A small bathroom was separating the two smaller bedrooms so I decided to take a leak.  Many thoughts were going through my mind while I tried to avoid the mildew smell the bathroom produced.  How are we going to get out of here? Am I going to die tonight?  You kind of get the idea.  Quinn stood watch outside the bathroom as I finished my business.  “Let’s go see how that guy is doing” Quinn said. 

We knocked on the door of the bathroom, and I asked “how you feeling man?”  There wasn’t a response, so Quinn knocked a little louder and we heard a groan.  “Well, this doesn’t seem right.” I said aloud, not to anyone in particular.  Quinn raised his sword and shouted, “Get the fuck out here!”  I looked at Quinn and smiled, my little brother is kind of a bad ass.  Nothing happened except for another groan.  I grabbed my bat and told Quinn to get ready, we were going in.  I went to turn the door knob when Quinn grabbed me.  “Let me go in first, I have the sword” he said.  “I have a bat, and I know how to use it.  Maybe I should get my wasp spray, it could stun him” I replied.  Quinn shook his head like I was an idiot.  I turned around to go get the wasp spray when I heard the shattering of wood.  I looked back and Quinn had kicked open the door with a stunned look on his face.  “What is it?” I whispered.  “I think he’s sleeping” Quinn answered.  I peeked my head into the floral patterned bathroom.  The man was on the floor, but he was twitching a little bit.  It smelled of dried blood and vomit.  I poked him with the blunt end of the bat and nothing happened.  “Hey, get up bud, we have to find a way out of here” I mumbled.  The man groaned again.  Quinn nudged him with his right foot; a hand shot out and grabbed Quinn by the ankle.  “Ahhh!” Quinn yelped.  The man’s eyes opened and I think we both realized that this man was indeed, a zombie!  “Get him off of me!” Quinn screamed.  I didn’t know what to do so I hit the man in the elbow with my bat.  I wasn’t able to take a big swing because of the tight space.  I think it made the man angry, if zombies get angry, that is.  He started to pull Quinn closer to him.  Quinn suddenly lifted his sword and drove it through the man’s chest like it was a toothpick stabbing a cube of cheese.  The man groaned again and but didn’t stop pulling.  I was guessing that zombies had super human strength.  “You need to cut his head off!” I screamed.  Quinn pulled his sword up again but was starting to lose his footing.  With out a lot of time to think, I tackled Quinn into the hallway.  His sword flew into the bathroom while his body went down the hallway with me.  We both crawled into the kitchen and hid behind the center island.  “What do we do now?” Quinn said through heavy breathing.  He didn't look  like a badass anymore.

A Day at the Beach

The pavement was warm, the air was salty and you could smell the fishy aroma in the breeze. Serena and I were walking from the parking lot with Kobe by our sides to dip our toes in the cool water. I didn’t feel the need to walk Kobe on a leash even though he had that greyhound instinct to run wild. He stayed by our side as we settled onto the loose sand to approach the calm, light blue water. Serena was wearing a light gray t-shirt and black running pants, her toenails were painted a coral color. I had on dark blue shorts and a beige t-shirt. I carried both of our sandals in my left hand while I grasped Kobe’s royal blue collar. Kobe had the goofy look of excitement on his face, with his mouth slightly opened and his tongue hanging out to the side. His eyes twitched to the different people he wanted to greet. I whispered to Kobe, “don’t get crazy.” and I let go of his collar. He immediately went to the first couple, a man who looked to be in his fifty’s with salt and pepper hair and his lady friend who looked as though she had just finished running. Her hair was damp with sweat which she brushed back as the breeze kept coming through. They put on their best, high pitched dog talking voices, asking “what’s your name?” The sand closer to the beach was damp and we left footprints when we walked on it. The day was warm with a lot of sun but the breeze helped cool everything down. When Kobe got bored of the couple, he started wandering down the right side of the beach. I yelled, “Kobe! Kobe! Come and chase me!” I was trying to tempt him into running at me. He looked back as though to say, “You’re going to have to try harder than that.” Knowing that he would give chase, I ran at him and turn back away quickly, sprinting towards the other side of the beach. As I was running, I turned back and saw his senses flare up and he flew towards me. I stopped immediately and he stopped on a dime at my feet and gave me his crazy dog eyes. I bent down and clapped my hands and he took off in quick, tight circles. The sand didn’t fly up but left his motions like artwork in the sand. I ran away from him and he ran the opposite direction then again he twirled and ran closer to the water. He looked towards me and then ran head first into the right leg of an older Hispanic man. The man was 5’8 with black hair and dark tanned skin. His moustache was full and black and it seemed to move up and down as he chuckled at what happened. Kobe waved his head back and forth to clear his mind and headed towards the parking lot. As he went to the pavement, his feet made the sound of a horse running on the track. He ran hard on the pavement, ran a couple of more tight circles and then he passed out on the soft sand. I ran over to him and noticed red on his back right leg. His muscular body lying on his side and I admired the brindle colors of his fur. I tried to find where the red came from and then I noticed his front left paw. It was detached from the rest of his leg, a white nugget oddly misplaced on the grainy background. Kobe didn’t seem to notice that he was broken and he kept his goofy grin, tongue outside his mouth, with his black eyes focused on me.

Zombie Street: Part 3

Disappointment.  That would be the first word that came to mind when the door opened.  When the man said he collected war memorabilia, I was expecting guns and armor.  In reality, the man had collected some army folding shovels, uniforms from different eras, and a few guns, without ammo.  “We can use the bayonets to stab them” the man said.  With that statement, Quinn ran out of the basement up the stairs.  Quinn is 6’1, brown hair, chestnut brown eyes, and he has the temper of a 2 year old boy who didn’t get candy in the supermarket line.  I had assumed that Quinn was so pissed off at this guy that he wanted to get out of the room with him.  “Well, you go upstairs with your bayonet and I’ll stay here in the basement with my baseball bat,” I suggested.  “Why don’t we stick together?” the man asked nervously.  I thought about it, not very hard, because I thought it would be better to have eyes on all levels so we wouldn’t be surprised.  “Nah, go upstairs, find Quinn, and tell him to take the top level” I ordered.  “Alright,” he sighed, “good luck…”  I took a stroll around the basement, looking for things I could use as a weapon, and found some wasp spray by the door.  “This just might work” I thought to myself.  I chuckled at the thought that I really was living a dream scenario.  Then I heard the scream from upstairs.

            It wasn’t a blood curdling scream, but more like the scream of a man seeing a mouse run by him.  I thought I would check it out, but I was cautious at the same time.  I tiptoed up the stairs, and peered around the edge.  There was a puddle forming on the floor, dripping from something hanging in the air.  It looked like a bowling ball bag and somebody was holding it by the handle as though admiring it.  Getting my spray ready, I jumped from behind the corner and yelled, “This is battery acid, you slime!”   Serena would be proud, she had been teaching me crappy movie quotes for sometime and I had finally succeeded in a situation that required one.  Quinn didn’t think it was that funny and dropped what he was holding and starting scratching at his eyes.  I looked down at my feet and saw a pair of eyes looking up at me.  They looked like red glazed marbles.  I immediately started to throw up.  The man got us back to reality by shouting, “Hey idiots! Help me close this door!”  I looked over to see the man struggling to push the door close because three or four arms were fighting to get in.  I went over to help push the door back but to no prevail.  “Quinn!  Help us, quit being a puss!” I yelled.   He glared at me.  Then I saw what he had used to chop the zombie’s head off, it was glorious!  Pulling it from a sheath, the sword shimmered in the moonlight.  It was about four feet long from the tip to the butt of the handle.  Quinn smiled at me when he saw my admiring looks and swung down at the arms; they sliced through them like they were carrots in one of those TV ads for Ginsu knives.  The blood sprayed all over the man’s face and body which would of caused me to throw up again, but I think I ran out of contents in my stomach.  This was real and I didn’t like it.