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.

Water

  I was working at a camp and we were in this bluish-brown water.  The activity of the day was to swim with the orca's, which in reality, was just one orca.  It was small, for a whale, with a glossy black finish and white spots decorated around it's belly.  I was able to touch it a few times as it jumped out of the water and back in.  It's rolling black body was snakelike and creepy but everyone wanted a feel.  After going under the water to try to grab on, I came up to face to face with a brown seal.  She was about six feet long and had these magical eyes that dared me to give my hand.  I put my left hand out and she gently bit on to my palm, hard enough to have a good grip but allowing me no pain.  I had a feeling that this would be a ride I would never forget.  Just about the time we were going for a swim, I felt another mouth on my right hand.  I looked over to see an identical seal with the same eyes daring me to let myself go.  When we took off, I didn't know what to think.  I tried to keep my head above water but then I allowed myself to become submerged halfway, only my eyes showing above water.   I had never gone this fast in the water before, yet I wasn't scared because I knew that these two had control.  We headed straight for land, which was 200 yards in front of us.  I lost track of the distance but I knew we had to be rapidly approaching the sandy beach.  As I started to panic, we dipped below the surface and then shot out of the air.  The sight must of been amazing, a pale man sandwiched between two beautiful sea creatures.  We went maybe twenty feet straight up in the air and as we came down, we did two full somersaults.  At the time, I had this feeling that I should be scared but all I really felt was exhilaration.  I knew that I would feel a belly flop like feeling on impact but instead we barely made a splash.  My seal escorts took me back effortlessly, they had never let me go.  When I was returned, the seals disappeared into the foggy water.  No one really said anything to me except, "nice flip."  I tread water and looked to touch the orca again.

Zombie Street: Part 7

The climb up the drive way was littered with the walking dead.  I tossed my bat back and forth between my hands anticipating the first strike.  I looked behind me and saw Quinn had recovered enough to have my back.  He was swinging his sword in figure eight’s with the look of a rabid badger.  I could see the street ahead of me and the zombies that were blocking my path.  They weren’t moving quickly so I decided that I would be able to take my time.  I approached the first zombie; he dressed in a gray suit with a red tie on a white shirt.  His hair looked at though it was combed to the side earlier in the day but had been tussled by a lover.  A dead lover.  When I was within five steps of him, I got a running start, and swung at his decaying face.  He went down quicker than a Mike Tyson knock out.  For good measure, I raised my bat and slammed down into the bridge of his nose.  One down, four to go.

            Alice, or so I will call her, since she resembled the nanny on the Brady Bunch with her blue dress and white apron was about ten steps away from the zombie businessman.  Her neck was bloody from teeth marks and it stained her apron, looking as though she had been cutting chicken heads off all afternoon.  She moved like an old woman and I was able to sashay to her right and swing at her temple.  She crumpled to the ground and Quinn automatically sliced her head off.  I guess he was getting bored watching me create my highlight reel.   As we stood side by side, we took an inventory on zombie people.  We only saw the three remaining people on the drive way and then the coast looked clear, at least ahead of us.  There were zombies behind us near the house and wandering about in the yard, but at their pace and distance, it would take five or ten minutes to reach us.  Two of the zombies ahead of us were side by side as though they were competing in a foot race to eat our brains.  I asked Quinn if he could handle them and he said he would.  I would take the squat Newman-esque figure just behind them. 

           

            I watched as Quinn ran at full sprint in between the zombie pair, while crouching down to avoid their strikes.  The two zombies weren’t able to react quickly enough and Quinn did a quick swipe of his blade through both of the zombie’s necks.  Their heads rolled down the hill and stopped at my feet.  I dry heaved.  Quinn gave me a flex of his muscles and turned towards Newman.  This guy had to weight about 300 pounds but stood about 5’8.  His curly, pubic-like hair was brown on top of his head.  His ugly forest green and brown checkered sweater was smeared in blood.  He wore Asics shoes that looked long worn down.  Quinn tried to go in for the kill but tripped, the zombie was able to wave him aside with his short, stumpy arms.  I ran up and tried slamming him in the head with my bat.  I missed his head and slammed down in his right shoulder.  Newman groaned and reached for me.  His hand grabbed a hold of my shirt as he tried to bite down on me.  This fucker was strong and it was obviously time for his after-dinner snack.  I tried to wiggle free but his grasp was too firm.  I could see Quinn over his shoulder as he plunged his sword directly through Newman’s back and the blade came through his chest.  The blood spray was awful and it smeared my glasses.  I could feel the warm blood on my face and I tried to avoid getting in my mouth.  Newman still had a hold of me but he was looking at the hole in his chest.  He remembered that I was his meal and moved again to bite me.  I guessed I had dropped my bat in the whole ordeal because Quinn swung at the back of his head.  Newman fell to the ground which forced me down with him.  Quinn sliced Newman’s arm off to free me and offered me his hand.  As Quinn pulled me up, I puked on his pants.  I guess I did still have something left inside of me.

Zombie Street: Part 6

I took a quick look outside to the deck and saw nothing out of the ordinary.  “Let’s take a seat at the table” I said, “we need an escape plan.”  Quinn cleared the table with a big sweeping motion, sending newspapers and place mats flying, clearing frustrations that had been building.  From where I was sitting, I could see out onto the deck in front of me and to my right, down the hallway, I could see the front door.  There was blood all over the place and I quickly discounted it as a viable escape route.  Quinn was standing to my left, looking out the window.  “Fuuuuuck” he mumbled.  “What is it?” I questioned.  “Well, I see people wandering around down there and who knows how many are in the forest?” he replied.  I made a mental note of weaponry: sword, frying pan, bat, wasp spray, eh, never mind the wasp spray.  “I think that if we think too much about a plan, we won’t be able to escape in time “Quinn muttered.  “Do we have to leave?  Wouldn’t more zombies be in here by now if they knew we were here?” I proposed.  With our luck, I saw something move outside on the deck.  It was bobbing up and down and I realized it was a head, bouncing as it walked up the stairs in a slow, stilted climb.  “Fuck It” Quinn stated, “let’s do this shit!”  With that, he grabbed his sword and opened the door to the deck.

Quinn resembled Tom Cruise in “The Last Samurai”, he had a fire in his eyes and it seemed to grow as he cut through the first zombie and then the second that had started to venture up the steps.  I kept my Louisville Slugger and followed after him, with no need to swing.  Quinn stopped when he got to the bottom of the stairs and I followed his gaze.  All over the lawn were zombie men, women, and even, zombie children.  Their eyes looked dull and lifeless in the moonlight.  The sight was beyond fucked up.  I don’t think an escape plan would have worked, because we hadn’t anticipated so many zombies.  Quinn turned to me and said, “Best bring your A-game.”  With that curt phrase, he took off towards the zombies.  I personally would have liked to avoid them, darting in and out like Jahvid Best.  I had never seen Quinn moved like he did, running towards the zombies while slashing whatever he could.  There were heads and arms creating a trail of destruction.  If you were to come back later, you could have retraced Quinn’s warpath.  For the zombies that were still alive, I would swing at their heads to stop them dead for their 2^nd miserable life.  Quinn reached the front of the house, stopping by a basketball hoop, obviously catching his breath since he had his hands on his knees and he was breathing heavy.  I caught up to him and we re-assessed the scene.  We had two options, try running through the forest to get back on the street or run up the dark pavement.  Since both options were going to be uphill, we decided to stay on the pavement even though there were several zombies awaiting us.  “Let’s stop running” I told Quinn, “we won’t make it very far at this pace.”  Quinn nodded his head while breathing through his mouth.  I knew that I was going to have to take a lot of these zombies on first so Quinn could recover.

Zombie Street: Part 5

Quinn’s wide eyes stared at me with a hint of discouragement.  We sat with our backs against the island; in front of us was a breakfast nook and a door to a deck on the right.  I glanced outside to see what was out there.  It was dark outside but the moonlight showed a barbeque grill and a table for four.  “We are going to need to get that sword back” I told Quinn.  “There are two of us, and one of him.” 

“I don’t think I can go back in there, Graham.  I’m scared.”

“Pull your shit together, or we won’t make it out of here alive.”

“I felt like I was a goner in there.  You need to go get it for me.” Quinn hinted.

“Ok.  I need you to calm down and I’ll go get the sword.  I have watched enough zombie movies to know that someone needs to be the hero” I replied.  I got on my feet and peered over the edge of the island.  The man wasn’t in the kitchen, thank God.  “I’ll be right back, check the kitchen for any extra weapons.”  I tiptoed to the corner, peered back at Quinn and gave him a wink.

I could hear moaning from the bathroom while I prepared for my second at-bat.  I am a career .300 hitter but I knew that this was a clutch situation and that I needed to come through for our team of two.  I got as close to the door as I could to try to get a mental gauge of what was going on in there.   There was still moaning but I didn’t want to look in.  “Think, dammit!” I thought to myself.  I got my grip on the bat and knocked against the door frame, hoping to draw the zombie man out.  To my surprise, it actually worked, though it took a good three minutes for the man to appear.  The sound of the zombie pushing it self up sounded like a sack of potatoes coming alive.  I got in my best Josh Hamilton batting position to knock this zombie out of the ballpark.   I saw his head first and the sword in his hand second, which confused the shit out of me.  I tried to swing but my arms wouldn’t listen to my brain.  His blood red eyes looked at me like a fat man looks as his McRib sandwich.  Something moved behind him and I thought that we now had two zombies at hand.  A loud “CLANK” was the first thing I heard and then another and the zombie man fell at my feet.  Quinn was grinning at me with a frying pan in his hand and he replied a well rehearsed line, “McShay style.”   I chuckled, a laugh was a good thing, and then I nudged the zombie with my bat.  His back had a bloody hole on it from the sword but he didn’t move.  “Check his pulse” I instructed Quinn.  “I’ve got a better idea” Quinn replied as he picked up the sword and sliced the zombie’s head off.  A quick high five and we went back to the kitchen to plan our escape. 

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.