Z-Burbia 5: The Bleeding Heartland (18 page)

“Time to get up and move,” Elsbeth says, and yanks me to my feet.

“Ow, fuck, El! Watch it!” I snap. “My leg still hurts!”

I literally don’t see the hit coming. I do see bright flashes of light as my vision swims from the punch Elsbeth gives my thigh.

“How’s it feel now?” Elsbeth laughs. “Still hurt?”

“Why?” I whimper.

“Pain helps you focus,” Elsbeth says. “We need you to focus. Your smarty brain is all over the place. Can’t have that anymore. The hard part is up ahead.”

“Hard part?” I ask. “Little Canny? Did she say the hard part is up ahead?”

“I’m not talking to you if you call me that,” Rafe replies.

“Yeah, I said the hard part,” Elsbeth sighs. “Pull the Z guts out of your ears, Long Pork, and pay attention. There’s no more resting. Now we move, and keep moving. Once we get to the pit, we don’t stop. If you feel something grab you, kill it.”

She shoves a rock in my hand.

“Wait, what pit?” I ask. “I thought we are already in the pit?”

“There’s another pit,” Elsbeth says. “It’s a smaller pit, only four feet deep, but filled with trapped Zs. We have to get across that to get to Critter, Stuart, and the others. Once we get to them, then it’s all easy peasy.”

“There’s a pit inside the pit?” I ask. “What is this? Some Russian doll nightmare hole?”

“Ain’t no dolls, Long Pork,” Elsbeth says. “Just Zs. Now, stay close.”

“Hold the fuck on,” I say. “If I have a rock in my hand, how the fuck can I stay close? I’ll lose you guys in three seconds with my gimpy leg.”

I scream as another hit to my thigh nearly sends me to the ground.

“FUCK!”

“Focus, Long Pork,” Elsbeth says. I can tell her grin is ten miles wide. “You think you’re getting lost, give that leg a whack and focus.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” I growl.

“It is now,” Elsbeth says, her voice a little farther away. “So suck it up.”

“Yeah, Short Pork, suck it up,” Rafe mocks. “Ow!”

“His name is Long Pork,” Elsbeth says. “No more Short Pork. He doesn’t have a tiny penis. I’ve seen it. It’s normal size.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. “When did you ever see my penis?”

“You get yourself knocked out and hurt a lot, Long Pork,” Elsbeth says. “Everyone’s seen you naked. Even Boyd.”

“Who the fuck is this Boyd?” I yell. Far off I hear a reply from a whole lotta Zs. I kid you not with the whole lotta approximation. “Oh, never the fuck mind. Let’s go.”

I stand for a minute, waiting for word from the other two, then hear footsteps ahead of me.

“Did you guys already take off? You fuckers,” I snap.

“I’m right here, Long Pork,” Elsbeth says from my ear again.

“Motherfucker!” I yell and jump, dropping my rock on my foot. “Son of a bitch.”

“Wait, if you’re back there, then who’s this here?” Rafe shouts back at us. “Oh, shit.”

“He’ll be fine,” Elsbeth says as we listen to Rafe’s struggle with what I am assuming is a Z. “Cannies are tough.”

“No shit,” I say.

There’s a sound like a walnut cracking, then a loud splash followed by Rafe gagging and then throwing up some more. Elsbeth pushes me forward, and the stink of rotten Z brains is like a warm, wet, smelly blanket filled with, well, warm, wet smelly Z brains. Shut up.

“I can’t believe you left me alone,” Rafe says when we catch up to him.

“You lived,” Elsbeth says, and taps me on the shoulder as she walks past. “Come on.”

“I dropped my rock,” I say. I cry out as a new rock impacts against my leg. “Thanks.”

I pick it up and listen closely, making sure I keep my ear on Elsbeth’s footsteps. They’re easy to hear since she’s making an effort to be heard. I think she’s skipping. I listen a couple more seconds. Yeah, she’s totally skipping.

I follow along for what seems like a decade past forever, my heart racing in my throat as every scuff and scrape echoes for a split second, then is swallowed by the immenseness of the pit. Or should I call it the big pit since we’re heading for the small pit? Pit One and Pit Two? Kinda like Thing One and Thing Two. Would that make Elsbeth the Cat in the Hat? I could so see her as the Cat in the Hat.

“Long Pork?” Elsbeth calls back to me.

“Sorry,” I say.

We keep going until I bump right into Rafe’s back.

“A little warning,” I whisper, sensing the smaller pit before us. It’s easy to sense, it smells like Zs.

“Sit down,” Elsbeth orders.

I do. I assume Rafe does too.

“Pay attention,” Elsbeth says, and her voice loses her semi-innocent hick accent. “I’ll go in first and clear space. When I say to follow, you follow. You do not hesitate, you do not pause, you just jump in and start smashing anything that tries to grab you. Keep a steady pace, and walk forward. Do not run, do not get off course. Steady and forward. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” we both reply. There’s no other way to answer when Elsbeth sounds like that.

“Good,” Elsbeth says. “See ya on the other side.”

There’re several loud crunches and then a thud as Elsbeth jumps into the small pit. The moans of the Zs amp up considerably until they’re louder than my thoughts. That’s loud, folks. Trust me.

It feels life fifteen or twenty minutes before I hear Elsbeth calling to us. She’s quite a ways ahead, but I guess she knows what she’s doing. She probably killed a bunch, but also wanted to draw the main horde with her to give us room.

“Follow!” she yells.

I jump into the pit and start swinging. I connect with one, two, three Zs, and send them falling away from me. I feel dead fingers claw at my clothes and have to wonder just how fucked we would have been if El didn’t give us some breathing room. This pit is wall to wall Zs.

“My God,” I say. “It’s full of zombies.”

I don’t get a laugh from Rafe, but I wasn’t expecting one. A good 2001 reference is for one’s own amusement anyway. That’s my philosophy.

Teeth clamp shut right by the side of my face and I whirl and strike out, caving in the offending Z’s head with my rock. I have to say, having used spiked baseball bats, sharpened batons, and many other weapons, both one and two handed, since Z-Day, I have never given a good solid rock it’s due. I shall rectify that.

Rocks rock.

Sorry. I couldn’t help it.

A Z bumps right into me and we nearly kiss. So I head butt it, and then whack the fuck out of the thing with my new rock friend. Consent is important, especially during the apocalypse. Ain’t no Z getting a kiss from me without at least a cup of coffee and a warm handshake. What does the thing think I am? Some end of the world slut? Puh-lease!

The Zs get thicker and thicker, and I’m soon sweating heavily, despite the chill in the pit. I’m also limping hard from my bad leg and starting to cramp in my good one from the extra work it’s doing. I elbow a Z back, smash another in the face, kick a third, elbow a fourth, smash a fifth, kick, elbow, smash, kick, elbow, smash, smash, smash, smash.

Trip.

Shit.

I’m on top of a squirming Z, and I can’t get up because my arm is twisted under the thing’s back. Which also means my rock is under the thing’s back. Not good. Very not good.

“El!” I shout. “I’m down!”

“Hold on!” Rafe says, only a couple feet ahead of me. “Keep talking so I can find you!”

“Never thought I’d hear someone say that!” I shout, then begin to sing Row, Row, Row Your Boat. It’s the first thing that comes to mind.

A Z stumbles and falls across my back. I twist and send it rolling off, but a second one, and then a third one just do the same thing.

“I said talk, not sing badly,” Rafe says, his voice coming from right above me as he pulls off one Z. “Which you can stop doing now.”

I stop singing and am grateful Rafe yanks the other Z off. I try to roll to the side and free my arm, but the Z I’m on is all kinds of twisted, and I almost get my ear bitten off. The thing’s teeth clamp down on the collar of my shirt, and I slam my head back again and again until there’s nothing but the sound of wet pulp.

“I think you got it,” Rafe says, helping me to my feet.

I bend down and start feeling around, but Rafe grabs my arm and pulls me away.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growls as he keeps pulling me.

“I lost my rock friend,” I say.

“How the hell did you make it this far?” Rafe asks.

“Luck and charisma,” I say. “Heavy on the luck part.”

“My name is Elsbeth, not luck,” Elsbeth shouts from way ahead of us.

“How can she hear that?” Rafe asks. “That chick is different, that’s for sure.”

“You have no idea,” I say as we start battling our way through the Zs.

I don’t get another rock friend, but with a lucky twist of my wrist, I snap off a Z’s arm and start using that to whack a path through the never ending pit horde. I may accidentally whack Rafe a couple times, too, but he doesn’t notice and thinks it’s just Zs.

“I notice, shithead,” he grumbles.

“Oh, sorry,” I apologize as I take a Z’s head clean off with one swipe of my Z arm friend.

“Everything does not have to be called your friend!” Rafe shouts. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

“Shhhh!” Elsbeth calls back. “You’ll let the Zs know where you are!”

I have no idea if she’s kidding or not. Sometimes you just have to live with the mystery of El.

Inch by inch, foot by foot, smashed Z head by smashed Z head, we trudge through the pit, until I slam up against Rafe’s back as he stops suddenly.

“Take my hand,” Elsbeth says, and I drop Stanley.

That’s what I’ve named my Z arm friend.

I reach up, and Elsbeth pulls me up out of the pit with one hard yank. And it is a hard yank. I didn’t really need that shoulder to be connected. Shoulders are overrated.

“Don’t be a baby,” Elsbeth says.

“Was that out loud?” I ask.

“No, I just know what a baby you are,” Elsbeth says. “So stop it.”

“Right,” I say, and step away from the pit to give Rafe room to get up. I don’t go far, since I can’t see a fucking thing. Basically, I stumble a little ways away and stand there with my dick in my hands.

Not literally. I do not literally have my dick in my hands.

Elsbeth gives me a shove in my chest and spins me around, then starts pushing me at the small of the back.

“Knock it off,” I say. “I know how to walk.”

“Not fast enough,” Elsbeth says, her voice cold and hard. “Move. Now.”

“Okay, okay,” I say. “Calm down.”

We get a few feet away, and I run right into a large boulder. My nose stings from the impact, but I don’t feel any blood start to flow, so it’s an impact that goes into the win column.

“Down,” Elsbeth says just as the pit is illuminated by bright lights.

Elsbeth shoves me and Rafe around the side of the boulder, then clamps her hand over my mouth. Probably a good idea since I find myself blinking against the intense brightness while also looking right at Critter, Stuart, and about six of the cannies from our crashed RV. Critter and Stuart look rough, but not as bad as I feared they would considering how Reptile Jesus was talking.

I immediately want to say something to them, which is exactly why Elsbeth has her hand over my mouth. So I blink a whole bunch of times, hoping my Morse code isn’t too rusty. Critter rolls his eyes and Stuart just shakes his head. I don’t think I’m blinking what I think I’m blinking.

There are some far off screams, and the sound of several shotguns going off.

“Come and get ‘em!” someone yells.

We all sit there and wait. I’m guessing we’re waiting for the lights to go out. Never thought I’d be glad to be plunged back into pure darkness.

The sounds of Zs fighting over fresh meat is something you recognize instantly when living in the zombie apocalypse. That goes on for several minutes, intermingled with laughter and small talk from the shotgun assholes. Then the laughter and talking slowly subsides, and finally the lights go back out.

“Hey, Short Pork,” Critter greets me from the darkness. “Wasn’t sure we’d see you again. I figured that hissy fit you threw causing you to pout and go upstairs might have saved ya from gettin’ captured. Guess not.”

“It wasn’t a hissy fit,” I reply. “You were being a dick.”

“It was a hissy fit,” Stuart says. “And did you just try to tell me my lips are full by blinking in Morse code?”

“No,” I say. “I was trying to say hello, and it’s good to see you guys.”

“Well, that’s not what you said,” Stuart says. “But it is good to see you.”

“What now?” I ask. “It’s great we can all be back together as one happy family, but how the hell are we going to get out of here?”

“Through the back door,” Elsbeth says.

“This place has a back door?” I ask.

“Every place has a back door,” Critter replies, his voice thick with smirkiness. “You just have to know where to look.”