Saturday, November 19, 2011

Zombie Street: Part 8

Quinn wiped my vomit off of his shoes onto Newman's sweater, which were replaced with blood.  He smashed Newman's head with the bat, he swung again, and again, until I pulled him away.  "Game over..." Quinn muttered.  We both looked at the street and found it to be clear.  "Let's go right" Quinn said, clearly taking control.  I was still trying to regain my senses, so I followed him down the lighted street.  We walked about a mile down the street without seeing any walking dead.  Quinn and I had walked in silence, perhaps willing away our bad fortune.  Breaking the silence, I complemented my brother, "I think we've found your calling."  He turned and smirked which turned into a frown.  His eyes grew wide and he motioned to the right of me.  I turned to see a group of walking munchkins.  I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me until I realized it was a herd of zombie kids.  They were moving swiftly, for zombies, and straight at us.  We had a distance of about 20 yards and I was able to make out baseball caps, those stupid different color Yankee hats, on each of their heads.  They were all tilted to the side just perfectly, amazing considering what they had probably been through.  I brought my bat up and ran straight towards them and swung at Green Yankee Hat.  He went down fairly easy, I guess zombie kids don't require double taps.  Quinn beheaded Black Yankee Hat and with his back swing took off Red Yankee Hat's head.  I'm not shitting you, his hat stayed in the same position as before.  I swung down hard on Camouflage Yankee Hat and as he crumpled I reared back to swing at White Yankee Hat.  "NOOOO!" he shrilled. I paused, looked at Quinn, and took three steps backwards.  Quinn yelled, "What are you waiting for?!?"  "I'm not one of them, I swear!" and White Yankee Hat went down to his knees.

    I helped White Yankee Hat up and moved his hat straightforward.  "What are...how did... what the fuck?" Quinn sputtered.  "My friends and I were attacked, I played dead.  When they got up, I just followed their lead." White Yankee Hat replied.  "Are you bit?" we questioned.  "No, honest, just scared" and I realized that he smelled of feces and urine.  "We'll let you tag along" Quinn told him, "but no stupid shit."  The kid looked at him blankly, "did you hear me you little shit?" Quinn demanded.  "Yes... yes, sir" and with that, we started walking back up the street.  White Yankee Hat said his name was Colin and he tried a few times to make conversation but Quinn's glares killed them each time.  I wished we had let him talk, because he didn't have much time left.

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