The Adventures of Steve and Terry: The Zombie Chronicles (19 page)

Steve came to first, to find a
blond haired, buxom beauty kneeling over him. “Hi there,” he said stupidly with
a smile.

“He’s alive,” the woman called to
the others.

“This one, too.”

Steve turned his head to find
Terry lying on the deck beside him, another blond bombshell attending him.

“Did you know we can make babies?”
Steve asked with a goofy smile.

“Yeah, keep it in your pants
Casanova,” the woman said, standing and stepping away from him.

Steve sat up to find two other
women, one with brown hair and one with red. It was like a hot chick buffet.
And then he noticed the other two women crouched over something, and as much as
he admired the view, he got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“This guy made it too,” one of
them said.

They parted and Steve saw Garret
lying on the deck.

“Where are my guns?!” Steve asked
in a panic.

He searched the deck to find his
shotgun and pistol lying nearby. He grabbed both, checking his ammo before
chambering a round.

“What’s going on—oh my god!” Terry
cried, jumping to his feet and finding his guns as well.

“This is both the best and worst
day of my life,” Steve said.

Garret got up and smiled when he
spotted Steve and Terry. “Oh, thank goodness,” he said with his slight lisp.
“Why don’t you guys take those wet clothes off and lay out in the sun?”

“We’d rather not,” Steve said,
slowly bringing his gun around until it pointed at Garret.

Steve and Terry looked around for
the four women, to find them at the helm, three relaxing on a half circle bench
while the fourth steered the yacht away from the ship, which they saw was
completely ablaze. Steve edged around Garret and walked toward the helm. He
stopped and leaned casually against the railing.

“So . . .” he said, with a smile
he thought was dashing, but in reality was sexual-predator creepy. “You ladies
must have been quite lonely on this yacht all alone.”

“No, not really,” the red head
said.

“But with no men around, you must
have a lot of pent up . . . frustration.”

“Okay, Ron Jeremy,” one of the
blonds said. “Let’s stop you right there. This whole end of the world thing—best
thing that ever happened, you know why? It killed all the men.”

“But . . .” and then it dawned on
him. “Oh my,” he said, doubling over to hide his immediate physical response as
he pictured scenarios in his head. “That is so hot! And so very disappointing,”
he said, sitting down in shock.

“Yeeaah,” the brunette said.
“Could you maybe go back and sit with your buddy over there?”

Steve laughed a sad laugh. Then
nodded with a wince. “Yeah.”

He went back and sat with Terry.

“So . . .” Terry said with raised
eyebrows. “Two a piece—”

“They’re gay.”

“What?!” Terry shrieked, choking.
“All of them?” he asked while sucking in a breath.

“Afraid so.”

“So we’re on a yacht with four
gorgeous women that don’t want to have sex with us, and one dude that does.”

“Looks that way,” Steve said,
keeping an eye on Garret.

“That’s wrong, just so, so wrong.”

“It’s like a twilight zone episode
or something.”

“Or the script to an effed up
porno, man,” Terry said with a shudder.

The women steered the yacht out into
open water and left the burning ship behind. As Steve watched the ship sink, it
might have been a trick of the eyes, but he thought he saw a black clad figure
leap from the deck into the water, carrying of all things, a sword. He shook
his head and turned back to the way ahead. They had only been going for a
couple of hours when the yacht suddenly slowed down, barely coasting along.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Steve
called.

The women all broke into commotion
and went below. Steve and Terry got up, walking over to the hatch and looking
down.

“Hey, what happened?” Terry called
down.

They suddenly both felt a hand on
their shoulders. “So, what’s goin—” Garret broke off with a grunt and collapsed
to the deck holding his testicles. Terry looked over at Steve to see he had hit
the man with the butt of his shotgun.

Steve just shrugged. “Sorry,
reflex.”

Terry was going to say something,
but just then the four women came back up onto the deck. “Hey, what’s going
on?” Terry asked.

“We ran out of gas,” one of the
women said.

“Gas?” Steve asked. “This is a
sailboat.”

The women all looked at each
other, then at the deck. “We don’t actually . . . know how to sail,” one of the
blonds said.

“Oh this is just terrific,” Terry
said, throwing his hands up and walking away.

“How much food and water have we
got?” Steve asked.

“Well with you guys onboard, too,
a couple of days.”

“We could always shoot Garret,”
Terry said.

“Hey!” Garret said from behind the
girls.

“There are supposed to be islands
out here,” the red head said.

“And the chances of just happening
upon one of them have got to be a million to one,” Terry said.

“There’s one!” the brunette cried.
Everyone spun to look.

“That’s the sun,” Terry said.

“Oh,” the girl said, crestfallen.

Everyone settled in for the long,
slow death by either dehydration or starvation. They drifted for a day, with
Garret and the women exchanging beauty tips. It was at noon of the second day
when Steve suddenly jumped to his feet.

“Land ho!” he cried.

That roused everyone and they
looked off in the distance to see a small island on the horizon. The current
slowly carried them to it. Together they all managed the sailing thing just
enough to get them to a dock. The boat made port with a slight bump and they
quickly tied it off.

“Saved!” one of the blonds cried.
The women all jumped of the yacht and ran across the dock, disappearing into
trees.

Steve and Terry quickly got off
the yacht as well, but they began searching for fuel. Garret got off as well
and seemed to just be exploring. Steve and Terry managed to find two barrels of
fuel, which they got back onboard.

“Now what?” Steve asked.

“I think now we leave,” Terry
said.

“What about the girls?”

“I think they’ll be fine.”

“What about the island. It could
be zombie free.”

“Do you really wanna spend the
rest of your life on Gilligan’s Island, only the professor’s not here, Marianne
and Ginger only wanna sleep with each other, and the skipper wants nothing more
than to rape us?”

“Okay, good point.”

They fueled the boat and untied
it. They pushed off from the dock and started the engines. Just then Garret
came running back.

“Heeey, wait up guys,” he said
with an air slap.

“I’m gonna shoot him,” Steve said.

“We may need that ammo,” Terry
said, stepping up beside Steve.

“Well . . .” Steve trailed off as
he saw that Terry had a beer bottle.

As Garret closed on the yacht
Terry chucked the bottle at him. “Ow!” Garret cried as the bottle hit him in
the head. He stumbled, tripped, and fell off the dock into the water.

Steve and Terry got the yacht
turned around and went full steam ahead in the direction they thought the
mainland was.

“Fate sure is cruel,” Steve said
with a sigh as he looked back at the island.

“You can say that again,” Terry
said.

“I hope the girls are okay.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.”

The girls were making their way
through the dense trees, talking loudly and excitedly when the red head
suddenly stopped. “Did you hear that?” she asked.

“Hear what?” one of the blonds
asked.

“It sounded like—”

As if on cue hordes of zombies emerged
from the surrounding trees, completely surrounding the women. They screamed as
the zombies swarmed.

XII. The
Facility

The three black clad freedom
fighters sprayed out the cameras as they made their way down the long concrete
hallway. All wore black ski masks and one carried a black backpack. They
entered a lab filled with chimps. The chimps seemed to be going ballistic,
screaming and pounding on their cages. The three figures nodded to one another
before removing their masks. They revealed two men, one with blond hair and one
with brown, as well as a woman with brown hair.

“Good god, those things are hot,”
the blond man said.

“Let’s just get busy freeing . .
.” the brown haired man trailed off, looking behind the blond.

The other two turned to see a man
in a white lab coat standing frozen, a cup of coffee half raised to his lips.
The man in the lab coat dropped the coffee and ran for a phone on the wall, the
blond man in pursuit. Lab coat just got the phone off the wall to call for
security when the blond man body slammed into him and then ripped the phone off
the wall.

All three surrounded the man.
“Listen,” he said. “I know what you think you’re doing, but you can’t.”

“We’re leaving, and we’re taking
your torture victims with us,” the brown haired man said.

“You can’t!” the man pleaded as
the brown haired man and woman moved to the cages. “The chimps are infected!
They’re highly contagious, you can’t—”

The woman opened one of the cages
and the chimp came hurtling out, tackling her to the ground. The chimp bit her
over and over as the brown haired man hit it with bolt cutters. Finally he
crushed the chimp’s skull and it collapsed to the ground. The woman got to her
feet, but something was wrong. Her face was contorted in a look of pure rage
and her eyes were bright yellow and orange.

“We have to kill her!” the
scientist screamed, grabbing a metal lab stool. The woman shoved past the man
and bolted through the doors. “We have to stop her before she infects others!”

But then they heard two
high-pitched girly screams come from the other side of the door. Wet, whacking
sounds followed, along with another girly scream and cursing. Finally, the door
was pushed slightly open with a bloody mop handle.

“Here, zombie, zombie, zombie,”
someone said. A balding, pudgy man, with a shaved head entered the room. “Hey,
Terry, it’s not zombies, just people.”

A second pudgy man pushed into the
room as well, holding a bloody “slippery when wet” sign. “Oh, thank heaven,”
the man said.

“Thank god,” the scientist said.
“You saved us. If she had gotten out, it could have caused a worldwide
pandemic. Mindless creatures could have consumed the earth.”

The two men just looked at each
other. “Uh huh . . . yeaaahhh, about that . . .”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Steve, that’s Terry. Who are
you?”

The two men squared their
shoulders and stepped forward. “We’re members of the Society To Unify Pets In
Defense.”

“I’ve heard of you guys,
S.T.U.P.I.D. right?” Terry asked.

Both men frowned. “We prefer the
long version.”

“And I’m a scientist—”

“Murderer,” one of the men
interjected.

The scientist just frowned, “What
are you guys doing here?” he asked.

“Uh, running from the zombies,
duh,” Steve said.

“What zombies?”

Steve and Terry looked at each
other, not sure if this was some sort of stupid joke or not. “Uh, the zombies
that have consumed earth in a tidal wave of walking dead; where the hell have
you guys been?”

“Here, on this island.”

“You mean Manhattan?” Steve asked.

“If there are zombies out there
it’s got to be your fault,” one of the S.T.U.P.I.D. members yelled at the
scientist.

“None of our test subjects got
out,” the scientist said quickly, almost as if to reassure himself.

“What are the chimps infected
with?” Terry asked.

The scientist got a very serious
expression on his face. “Rage.”