Z-Burbia 5: The Bleeding Heartland (24 page)

The gunfire starts to slacken, and I feel Elsbeth’s weight lift off me.

“Get up, Long Pork,” she says, and pulls me up.

She smiles down at Greta and pulls her up too, then gives her a huge bear hug. Greta’s eyes about pop out of her skull from the hug, but I don’t think she minds too much.

“Come on,” Elsbeth says, and tugs us back towards the Tomb, which I am now going to just call a mine, since Reptile Jesus can’t make me call it the Tomb anymore. “We’re leaving.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to go out the front?” I ask, then duck as gunfire erupts again in that direction. “Oh, right.”

We get to the mouth of the mine, and then stop. It’s pretty obvious we aren’t going out the backdoor.

“Why are you giggling?” Greta snaps. “This isn’t funny, Dad.”

“Backdoor,” I snicker, then stop as I get that teenage girl death glare. “Right. Not funny.”

“What’s goin’ on?” Critter asks as he and Rafe come up behind us. “Why ain’t we goin’ in?” He looks at what we’re looking at and frowns. “Well, fuck me. That ain’t good.”

There’s a whole lot of smoke coming from the mine. Yeah, I’m thinking that shooting guns in a place filled with combustible coal dust was not the best thing to do. Looks like the backdoor is on fire. Kinda like the next day after eating Thai food.

“Dad!” Greta shouts. “Stop giggling! It’s fucking creepy!”

“I was just thinking that…” I start, then see that none of the faces around me give a shit what I was thinking. “Sorry.”

“We go out the front,” Elsbeth says. “Only way.”

We all turn and see Lourdes and her men pursuing the last of Kelvin’s guys. But I don’t see Kelvin anywhere. He must have gotten away from them. Oh, no, wait ... there he is.

Right by the compound gate. Hey, he’s opening the gate. How nice of him.

“It is God’s fate!” Kelvin yells as he throws open the gates. “I know that now!”

After throwing open the gates, he throws his hands in the air.

Instead of making a bold escape, Kelvin has decided that a bold sacrifice is the plan of attack. Once again with the best offense is a good defense. Hmmm, I still don’t think I’m using that right.

You remember that massive herd of Zs we fought through to get away from that last farmhouse? Yeah, it’s found the compound. And it’s bursting through the gates, all hungry mouths and clawing hands. Some of those mouths and hands rip into Kelvin as he just stands there, his arms and face raised to the sky.

“
Slaves, be willing to serve your masters! Do this with all respect!” he shouts. “You should obey the masters who are good and kind, and you should obey the masters who are bad!”

Well, that’s one way to go out. Hey, looks like some of the Zs get to find out if Reptile Jesus tastes like chicken.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Greta says, and covers her face with her hands. “Will someone make him stop?”

“Girl, if we could do that we would have a long time ago,” Critter says as we stare at the hundreds and hundreds of Zs that stream into the compound, all heading right for us.

Chapter Eleven

Choice isn’t exactly your friend when you’re facing the numbers we are. It isn’t like before when we fought our way through the Z herd from that farmhouse. That was a risk, and one that paid off because we were only cutting across. We weren’t actually fighting the whole herd, but just the few we needed to fight to get from one side to the other.

Here, now, is a whole other melon. That’s a saying, right? A whole other melon? I don’t know. Fuck it. It’s a saying now.

You see, what we’re facing is the entire herd, coming right for us. There’s no cutting through, because that would be like traveling from a shark’s mouth all the way out its anus. It can be done, but you sure as shit aren’t going to be alive at the end of that journey.

“Come on,” I shout. “I have an idea!”

“That isn’t comforting!” Stuart shouts back.

“Just follow me, dickhead!” I yell, and limp off towards Kelvin’s cluster of trailers. “I know where the safe room is!”

I know they don’t really trust my judgement at the moment, but no one argues, and they all follow quickly behind me. I glance to the side and see Lourdes watching us.

“Come on!” I yell. Yelling is good because then she knows to rally her folks on us and get to the trailers. But yelling is bad because it also lets the Zs know which way we’re going. “Poop.”

We get to the trailer cluster, and Rafe is the first one to the door. He yanks it open, and then half his back explodes out at us in a spray of spine and fluids. His body does a brutal pirouette, then collapses at my feet as I look up and see Maury standing there with a high-powered rifle in his hands. I guess that answers who started all the shooting.

The world slows down. Maury’s finger starts to press down on the rifle’s trigger again just as a blur shoves me out of the way and flies through the trailer’s door. I hear a gunshot, and even feel the heat of a bullet whiz past me, but luckily I feel no pain. Well, other than when the world speeds back up, and I don’t get my hand out in time to stop my fall. Forehead and ground meet once again. Those two should get a fucking room.

I roll over and watch as Maury tries to get the rifle up in time to block Elsbeth’s blades, but he doesn’t stand a chance. None of us say a word as Elsbeth literally dismembers the man before our eyes. Limbs fall away, clothes fall away, ears, lips, nose, all fall away until all that’s left is a stump of a man lying in a huge pool of his own blood. He tries to say something, but Elsbeth doesn’t give him a chance as she jams a blade through his mouth and out the back of his head.

She looks back at us, rage filling her features.

“Little Canny,” is all she says.

Critter and Stuart help me to my feet, and we look down as Greta is on the ground, cradling Rafe’s head in her lap. His mouth is open, and he’s trying to say something, but Greta puts a finger to his lips, and he stops. She leans over and kisses him on the forehead, the nose, then the mouth. He gets a smile halfway finished before the life leaves his eyes.

“Shit,” I say. “I think I’m going to miss that kid.”

“Yeah,” Critter says.

“What are you people waiting for?” Lourdes yells as she and her men reach the trailer. Then she stops as she sees the scene. “Oh. Fuck.”

“Nothing we can do,” Greta says, tears filling her eyes as she gently gets up from Rafe’s body and looks at me. “Where’s the safe room?”

“This way,” I say, and move past Elsbeth and the many pieces of Maury. “Back here.”

I show them into Reptile Jesus’s torture room, then turn around.

“You coming?” I ask Elsbeth.

She doesn’t answer, just steps out of the trailer for a second. The unmistakable sound of a blade sliding through a skull reaches my ears, and I realize what she’s doing.

“Thanks,” I say to her. She still doesn’t answer, just follows me into the torture room.

It’s a little cramped with all of us in it, but the sound of the door latching and all the locks clicking into place tells me I made the right choice.

“Now what?” Critter asks. “We just stay in here until the herd goes away?”

“Uh ... yes?” I reply. “I wasn’t thinking of an exit plan, just a stay alive for a few more hours plan.”

“Weapons check,” Lourdes says to her people. They comply, and all sit their asses down and start stripping their carbines, quickly going over them and cleaning them with their field kits.

It’s kind of hypnotizing to watch, but that effect goes away as soon as the trailer begins to rock. The whole thing shifts at an angle, and then the pounding at the door begins.

“Looks like the Zs found Maury,” I say. “I wasn’t counting on that.”

I can tell everyone would like to look at Elsbeth, but we all know better than to do that. It’s not her fault, and if even one of us gives her a look like it is, she’ll lose her shit. The last look on her face was not a judge Elsbeth look. It was more like
a
let’s leave Elsbeth alone because she’s in a ba
d
place look. You learn these things when the woman saves your ass a few times.

The trailer keeps shaking, and the undead hands keep pounding. What do we do? Well, what can we do? We stand there and stare at the one way in and one way out, watching the heavy door shudder in its frame.

You see, this is the flaw of so many structures. Everyone thinks a solid door is how you keep a room secure. They put all kinds of locks on it, drill in braces for heavy bars, even use chains, but they forget about one very simple architectural fact: a door is only as strong as the frame around it. You can have a door made of fucking diamond, and it doesn’t mean shit if the frame is made of goddamn particle board!

And that’s exactly what the doorframe around this door is made of. Goddamn particle board. Okay, well, the frame itself is made of two by fours, but the walls are particle board. And the walls are connected to the frame. So we stand here, watching as the paint next to the door begins to crack and splinter. Then the wood that isn’t really wood and more like wood stuffs (it’s the Velveeta of wood!) begins to show through the paint and old plaster.

Yeah, it looks like the Zs are coming in, invited or not. How rude! Fucking rude Zs! I fucking hate rude Zs!

“We all hate rude Zs, Jace,” Stuart says. “You can stop saying it over and over.”

“I’m not saying it on purpose,” I reply. “You think I like having the contents of my thoughts just spewing out of my mouth without my consent? It is no fun, trust me.”

“No shit,” Critter says. “It ain’t no fun for us neither.”

“Move to the back wall,” Lourdes says. “Get behind us, and stay tight. We’ll try to fight off as many as we can for as long as we can.”

“Save some of them bullets for us,” Critter says. “I ain’t going out as Z food.”

“Bullshit,” I snap. “We’re getting out of this. There is no way I have come this far to die with all you fuckers in Reptile Jesus’s rumpus room. Not fucking happening!”

“Then what’s your bright plan, Short Pork?” Critter asks. “Come on now, you have to have a plan, right? All that thinkin’ happenin’ up in that big brain of yours, there must be a plan. Enlighten us, Short Pork. What is it?”

“Don’t call him Short Pork,” Elsbeth says. “His name is Jace Stanford.”

Critter looks over at Elsbeth, but she doesn’t look back at him. Her eyes are focused on the door and the cracking walls around it. For one second, I think Critter is going to say something to her, but the man is way too smart to do that, and he just nods.

“Fine,” Critter says. “Jace, what is yer plan? Huh, Jace? Ya got a plan or not?”

I have to give him credit, he doesn’t back off. He may not be calling me Short Pork, but he’s still gonna bust my balls.

I shake my head, and put my back against the wall.

“No, I don’t have a plan,” I say. “This was my plan. Get us in here and away from that fucking herd. That was as far as I thought. I was sort of hoping some of you professional killers would have a plan. Maybe take a page from the soldier playbook and take over.”

“We’re trapped in a small room with only one door, Jace,” Lourdes says. “There’s not much to work with.”

“There’s not much to that door,” Stuart says. “It’s going to come down in a couple minutes as soon as the walls around it give way.”

I start bonking the back of my head against the back wall, over and over, as an act of frustration. It’s something I used to do when I was a kid and got sent to my room, which happened a lot. I’d sit on my bed with my back to the wall, and bonk my head against it until the sound drove one of my parents nuts. They’d come whipping into the room, ready to yell at me, but I’d stop, and just be sitting there all innocent and shit. Didn’t stop them from kicking my ass, but it did confuse the hell out of them. I don’t think they ever figured out what was making the noise.

But my childhood bedroom wall was made of real materials, not like this stupid trailer wall. When I bonked my head on my old wall, it sounded solid, it had resonance. When I bonk my head on this wall it’s all hollow and empty. It’s a pitiful, stupid wall.

Wait ... it’s a pitiful, stupid wall.

“Backdoor!” I shout. “I found the backdoor!”

Then I giggle.

“Jesus, Dad,” Greta sighs.

“And Jace has now gone cuckoo,” Critter says. “There ain’t no backdoor, dumbass.” He looks at Elsbeth. “Can I call him dumbass?”

She just shrugs, her eyes still on the one door, her blades ready at her sides.

“You’re right, Crit,” I smile. “There ain’t no backdoor. Not yet.” I turn and pound my fist on the wall I had just been leaning against. “But we can make one pretty fucking fast.”

“Son of a bitch,” Stuart says. “He’s right. The brilliant moron is right.”

“Um, that probably didn’t come out the way you meant it to,” I say to him.

“No, it came out exactly how I meant it to,” Stuart says, then steps forward, lifts his leg, and slams his boot against the wall. A crack appears instantly. “Come on, folks. Let’s get to work.”

We do.

Boots, the butts of rifles and carbines, even fists, start working on the wall. In minutes we have trashed it completely, and we all stare at what’s on the other side.

“I could have gone my whole life without seeing that,” Greta says.

Apparently, on the other side of Reptile Jesus’s torture room is Reptile Jesus’s sex room. I shit you not. There’s every kind of sex toy imaginable on the shelves that line the wall. There’s also some very interesting equipment that I am not going to even try to figure out. I recognize the sex swing hanging from the ceiling, but that’s about it.

“Looks like Kelvin wasn’t so much God’s voice as he was God’s pervert,” I say. “Not too surprising, really.”

Elsbeth walks over and picks up a giant dildo. I do mean giant. The thing is like two feet long and eight inches wide. Giant.

“I could kill a man with this,” she says, and tucks it inside her coat.

I really hope she means she could beat a man to death about the head and face with it. If she’s talking about another way to kill a man with it, then I do not want to even go there. Please, brain, don’t take me there.

Dammit. My brain takes me there.

“You know, while we’re here, I should pick something up for Stella,” I say.

“Dad!” Greta yells. “Yuck! That was out loud!”

“I know,” I smile. “I couldn’t help saying it.”

“Looks like we gots another wall to go through,” Critter says. There’s a loud splintering sound from behind us. “And we best be hurryin’!”

I look back, and see hands and fingers start to work their way around the torture room’s door as it breaks away from the walls. We’ve got like seconds before they get through and come for us.

No one has to say a word, we just move. We shove the sex machines out of the way, and then grab onto the shelves holding all the dildos. They’re bolted to the wall. Great.

Lourdes and her men start ripping at the shelving, cracking shelves and tearing out supports. Dildos, vibrators, strap-ons, cock rings, ball cuffs, you name it, it’s all flying this way and that. It’s raining sex toys!

We finally get down to the wall, at least enough of it that we can squeeze through once we rip the thing open, but it may be too late. There’s a huge crash and the trailer shudders as the torture room door comes free. We spin around and watch as the herd tries to jam itself through the opening. There are too many Zs, and they get stuck against each other.

Which is where the shitty walls come back into play. The particle board bends and stretches from the pressure of the herd, then the whole wall gives way, and here they come!

I just start picking up sex toys and throwing them at the Zs. Lourdes and her men are a little more practical, and all take knees and open fire while Stuart, Critter, Elsbeth, and Greta work on getting through the wall.

I throw some spiky thing (honestly, I have no idea what it is) at a Z, and it lodges right in the monster’s mouth. Booyah!

It doesn’t slow it down though. No booyah!

Lourdes and her guys have a little more luck as they choke the hole we made in the wall with Z corpses. There are so many of them that it gets clogged in no time, giving her and her men time to reload while everyone else keeps working on the wall.