Zombie D.O.A. (9 page)

The wino
squatted
next to a smoky fire into which had been thrown a
side of bloody meat
that looked like a pale thigh. The smell of the seared meat coupled with
the
putrid stench of the dumpster made me gag and I had to fight back the urge to hurl
. 

At the fire, the man was rubbing his hands
in anticipation of his meal.
He picked
up a bottle of
Chivas Regal and took a long pull.
He looked like he was going to be there a while.

Which left me with two choices, either I could hunker down in the dumpster and wait for him to finish whatever it was he was cooking, or I could catch him by surprise and make a run for it.

The worse of it is that
,
despite my initial revulsion, the smell of whatever the wino was broiling in the fire
was making m
e salivate.
I hadn’t eaten in the last 24 hours and I’d burned off a lot of energy in that time. 
My body
was telling me I
needed sustenance and despite myself…
No. I had to move, and it I had to be now.

I felt round in the dumpster for a weapon, a plank of wood, a bottle, anything. But there was only rotting vegetation, mainly cabbage leaves which explained the softness of my bed.

Weapon
or no weapon, I needed to move. I peered through one of the bullet holes and saw the wino still at the fire.

About ten feet behind him
I could see
the
rusted chain link fence
, still bearing the imprint of where I’d crashed into it during the night. It effectively cut
off
the alley, and I was glad I hadn’t tried to climb it in the darkness – it was topped
with some lethal looking razor-
wire
.

I
decided I had to regard the wino as d
angerous until proven otherwi
s
e
. In these crazy times, who knew how someone was going to react. The key w
as surprise. I had to move fast, hit the ground and be ready to fend off an attack.  All things being even, the wino would probably be too involved with his food to care. I could then back down the alley and get out the way
I’d come in.

I go
t
myself into a crouch
,
rested my back against the li
d
and braced
. I did a mental c
ount of three then pushed up
with both back and arms. The lid flew
up
and crashed into something metallic
, but I was already moving, placing
my hands on
the edge of dumpster and hoisting
myself
over. I landed
in a crouch on the alley floor.

The man at the fire reacted as though he’d
just received a jolt of electricity
. He shouted “Hey!” and
scrambled back a few paces, landed on his but
t
and bounced immediately to his feet.
The bottle of Chivas was still in his hand and he smashed it against the wall leaving
him with the splintered bottle
neck
,
which he waved in my direction.

O
nce he saw
that
he had the upper hand he broke into a grin, showing a mouthful of stubby blackened teeth. He was
definitely
not one of them.

“Calm down, mi
ster. I’m not going to hurt you,
” I said
backing off
.

“You one of those fucking things?” he said.

“No, no, I’m not.”

“Prove it.”

“No need, I’m going to go now so you get back to your…
”

“Show me you fucking neck
‘
for I cut you.”

I
could have just backed off and left but for some reason decided to humor him.
I
pulled down my t-shirt to show him I hadn’t been bitten.

“We
ll
,
I guess you’re okay then,
” the
man said
and lowered
the
hand
holding the bottle
.
“Made me waste a damn fine bottle of scotch whiskey though.”

I sensed a movement behind me and started to turn. Then something crashed into my head and I went down hard.

I came round
with a throbbing in my head and acrid s
moke in my ey
es. I was lying on my side,
my
cheek
resting
on
the alley
floor
,
my hands and
feet t
ied. I could hear laughter and drunken voices. For a moment I couldn’t figure out where I was but then I remembered, the wino,
and being hit
from behind.

Someone started shaking me by the shoulder and a woman’s voice, rough with drink and cigarettes sai
d, “Wakey, wakey, sleepy head
,” and laughed.

“He awake
yet?” A man’s voice
asked
.

“Nah, I got him good,” another replied, “He’ll be out for a while, yet.”

The woman bent her face close to mine and I could smell booze and sweat, tobacco and greasy meat on her breath.

“Sleeping like a baby,” she said. 

When the woman returned to her companions. I opened my eye a crack. I could see the alley floor with the blue dumpster where I’d spent the night.

At the fireside there was more drunken laughter and I figured the only thing to do was to wait for them to pass out and then make my move.

“Garcon, a bottle of
your finest
Burgundy,” one of the men said in an upper class British accent.

“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, professor” the other replied. “Get it your fucking self.”

“You then Shirl, come on. Would you deny a dying, man?”

“Dying man my butter ass, but as I’m heading over there anyways.”

“Ah, bless you, bless you my child.”

I heard the rattle of bottles, and then Shirl said. “Ah huh, there’s a price to pay.”

“But all I have is already yours, my heart, my soul, my…”

“A story,” Shirl said.

“A story? O
h very well, you’ve twisted my arm.”

“Ah, Christ
,
” one of the other men said.

“Shut up,” said Shirl, “I like the professors stories, he’s an educated
man. Y
ou two
bums could learn a thing or two listening to him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the other man said. “More stories about bum rushing Greeks. Some fucking education.”

“Actually,” the professor said. “Although this particular story is in fact based in Greece…”

“Told ya,” the other man said.

“Hush, Frankie,” Shirl said.

“Although
it does take place in ancient
Greece, on the island of Crete to be precise, it is most certainly devoid of bum rushing Greeks. This is about the Minator.”

“The what?” Frankie said.

“The Minator, a man eating beast with the head of a bull and the body of a man.”

“Sounds like a load of bull to me.” Frankie said and the other man snorted with laughter.

“Frank!” Shirl reprimanded.

“
The Minator,
”
the professor continued, “was a fierce monst
er created by the god Poseidon. T
o punish the king Minos.
Poseidon had
Minos’
wife fall in love with
a
b
ull and by their coupling, the Minator was created.”

“Now you’re talkin’,” Frank said and he and the other man laughed again.

“In order to contain the beast, the king constructed a labyrinth…”

“A what?”

“A labyrinth, kind of a maze.”

“Ah, right.
”

“But the beast needed to be sated.
And so every year, seven young men and seven maidens had to be sent into the labyrinth
to be devoured by the Minato
r.”

“Jesus,” one of the men said, “how’d they decide who got to go?”

“They drew lots,” the professor said.

“That’s so sad,” Shirl
said.

“Yeah, and also bullsh
it,
”
Frank said, “Everyone knows bulls
eat
grass, not people.
”

“Yes well, it is a fable old boy, not meant to be the truth.”

“What happened to the bull thing,” the other wino wanted to know.

“He was killed, by a feller named Theseus, but that my friends is another story.”

“Another
bullshit story,” Frank said, “but it does give me an idea
.”

“Well that’s a first,” Shirl started to say before Frank cut her off.

“Shut the fuck up, Shirl, sh
ut up and listen. This feller here, one that tried to kill Zeke. What are we gonna do with him?
”

“Well
he
didn’t actually
try to
kill me,
” Zeke started then thought better of it.