Infamy: A Zombie Novel (6 page)

“
Are you sure? Maybe you should fire a few into the crowd below just to get a feel.”

He cocks back the chrome hammer and hands over the weapon. Finally I get a chance to vent all that sexual frustration that
Jessica just built in me.

B
am! Bam!
Each round brings both blood and scarification. No really, it does. Although, I’m not really sure I hit anything.

After exhausting the clip, Caesar replaces it with a new one.

“Can’t believe you’re trusting me with your gun,” I say.

“You profit nothing by my de
ath if that’s what you mean. I know you will value my protection as much as your own.”

Just then a flame
smashes onto the crowd of undead, setting fire to several zombies. Some douchebag in a Hawaiian shirt is lighting cocktail bombs on an adjacent balcony. He throws like a fucking girl.

“
Heard you guys having all the fun and wanted to join in,” the douchebag laughs. “Don’t have a gun but I do have several cases of liquor.”

A
drunk arsonist with the throwing arm of a disenfranchised NFL quarterback? This can’t end well.

“H
ow about sleeping it off before you set the building on fire,” I say.

“Just having a little fun. Do
n’t be such an asshole.” Douchebag throws down a few more Molotov cocktails. One catches an entire group of zombies on fire. I don’t think the undead even notice their hair is ablaze, let alone melting flesh and boiling brains.

“I
have no time for this nonsense,” Caesar says. He pulls out another gun and shoots the bottle out of the man’s hand.

It’s a fucking awesome shot.
Glass shatters and alcohol comes into contact with the lighter the dude just lit. A fiery cloud singes his face. He runs screaming into his condo.

“Dam
n, Caesar, was that necessary?” I say.

Some people from our
group come out to see what’s going on.

Caesar address
es the small crowd. “Just doing some target practice. We’re done. Everyone can go back to sleep.”

“T
hought maybe you were shooting one of us again,” says Gonzo. He’s the oldest dude in our group and always uses pissed-off sarcasm.

Caesar puts his hand on the already holstered gun. “The infected never rest. So maybe you should go back to your bed before I confuse you
with one.”

Gonzo’s
eyes widen as those around him step out of the way. He takes a few steps backward into the hall and moves out of sight. Everyone else leaves too.              

“
You should try to get some rest too,” Caesar says to me. “We will be busy tomorrow.”

“Sure thing
, boss man.”

Caesar grabs his black bag and heads out into the hall.

In a vacant room filled with movie posters and comic books I find fresh socks and boxers. Much better than the chlorine, blood and vomit I’d been wearing. Then I find a pair of pants along with a t-shirt, hoody and jacket (layers are great to help keep zombie teeth from penetrating skin).

I glance at a clock.
11:55 p.m. Will I even sleep? Sure hope tomorrow isn’t as long as this day turned out to be.  

Chapter 6

Doom

“Seth, wake up.”

What the fuck? Not Jessica again. “You missed your chance earlier. I really need to get some sleep,” I growl.

“I’m not here to sleep with you
, asshole. I’m trying to save your life. Bill and another guy are trying to keep the infected from getting in through the stairwell.”

“S
omething told me this night wasn’t over.”

“Just hurry.”

I grab the gun from under my pillow and we head into the hall. Jessica points towards the emergency exit where two guys are trying to hold the door shut.

“I’m going to get everyone
so we can figure a way out of here,” she says.

I translate to: the dead creatures are your fucking problem. I’m the fuck out of here.

“Sure,” I say. Doesn’t seem like too hard of a task.

The
small rectangular window in the door is completely demolished. The undead do their best to pry it off. Bits of metal wiring hold it in place.

“
Give us a hand here,” Bill says. He’s some jock wannabe with red hair and a goatee. The dude with him is his brother Roger. Roger weighs about ten pounds and is all hair. One of the zombies might grab him by his neck fur if he isn’t careful.

I throw my weight into
the party. The force from all three of us shuts the door. There’s no way to lock it without a key so we hold tight. How the fuck do these things know how to open doors anyway? In movies and games they’re always dumb as cats.

“Thank you,
” Bill says, then just like the dick he is, he and Roger let go and take off running.

“
What the fuck?” I yell, but it’s no good. “Fucking assholes.”

People run
back and forth between the condos trying to gather belongings and find another way out. I’m holding the door with all my strength, but it’s not going to last. I spot a man heading toward me. As he draws closer I notice he’s got a bottle of vodka in his hand and looks like his face was recently burnt.

“I’m looking for th
e asshole who did this to my face,” he mutters.

“How should I know who did that to your face?
Why don’t you fucking help me here.”

             
“I recognize your voice,” he spits. “Remember you said go sleep it off or some bullshit? Where’s the man who shot at me?”

              “Can’t we talk about this after you help me keep the door shut?”

“Help you? Who the hell do you think let them in? I’m going to burn you and watch those fre
aks feast on your barbecued ass.”

A flaming bottle of alcohol flies towards me.
Since being burned alive just to hold a door shut to save everyone else is just not worth it, I let go and duck. Flaming vodka smashes into the infected. Several of them are ablaze. Burning zombies stagger toward me smelling like fiery bags of shit. I take off down the hall, but Scarface decides to get in my way.

“You’re not going anywhere,
” he says.

Now
this douchebag has really pissed me off. I whip out my pistol. “Move your fucking ass.”

Just then a
door opens from his left. A shotgun pops out, points to the side of his head and blasts the dude’s brains against the wall in a splattering snowball of blood. His body crumples against the hall floor.

Caesar
rests the shotgun on his shoulder. A lit cigar dangles from his mouth.

“Let’s take our leave
, Mr. Seth.”

I kind of like this
Mr. Seth
thing, though I’m scared shitless.

We
head toward the elevators where the group has gathered. While trailing behind Caesar I get this twist in my gut. A familiar sound catches my ears and causes me to stop in front of a doorway. 

“That dam
n old lady hasn’t left with the baby yet?” I say.

Sandy
comes shuffling out of her room. “Why do you guys insist on waking the baby all the time?”

“The infected are
here,” I say. “Head to the elevators. I’ll grab Ella.”

“Oh God. A
re you sure?”

“Yes
, bitch. Now move out the way.”

Ella is in a crib,
crying. Fortunately, her bag is all ready to go and the carrier is laid out nicely. The baby loads in fast and the carrier is strapped to me backpack style with the baby facing over my shoulder. We head out the door. Once we hit the living room my body freezes at the sight of Sandy being feasted upon in the doorway by a few flaming undead.

As
I step back, my foot kicks a chair, causing a slight noise that a normal person may not take notice to. Not the undead—I might as well have rung a dinner bell. My mind races, repeating over and over again: Please don’t see me, please don’t see me. Then, as if I have special powers, the zombie turns back to the old woman and starts feeding again.

The
front door is no longer an option. Time to think of another way out. Busting through the wall worked last time. But where would I kick my way to? Thin air? I head to the balcony and shut the door from the outside.

Leaping from our balcony to
another is going to be a challenge. The gap is about five feet. I toss the diaper bag. It lands perfectly. Too bad I can’t just throw Ella over. Would make this easier.

I
step onto the low wall lining the balcony. I’m ready to jump when zombies start beating their way through the glass, throwing me off balance. I leap even though I’m unprepared.

It’s apparent
we’re not going to make it all the way across. Luckily, I’m able to grab hold of the half wall on the other side. Ella laughs. I try to hang on. She thinks this is some kind of silly carnival ride? Stupid kid. Behind us, glass shatters. Zombies screech. I kick and pull as we dangle over foggy San Diego. Undead begin to climb over the balcony, raining undead idiots on the street below.

The thought of one of these ugly asshole
zombies grabbing Ella fuels my adrenaline. I scramble over the ledge with her giggling and we get inside.

“Okay,” I say
to her. “No more laughing. This is life or death time. So shut it.”

             
I open the front door slowly and peek down the hall. The direction to the elevators is clear. Not the other way. Zombies linger around the entrance to the other condo. I wonder if we’re the only two left.

Off we go.

Only takes the infected a second to take notice and give chase. I run down the hall and keep punching the elevator button until the doors open to a disgusting scene. Inside are body parts and two infected women (who look vaguely familiar from our group) eating Gonzo.

“Move your ass over here!”
yells Caesar from down the hall.

He holds the door open to Housekeeping
. A maintenance elevator is held open with a mop. Caesar kicks the handle out of the way and holds the door open so I can squeeze in with Ella before it closes. He hits the button for the second floor.

I take a moment to catch my breath.

Ella burps and cheers.

Standi
ng in elevators always feels awkward. The lame music. The enclosed space. The strangers you’re stuck with as you wait for your destination trying to make conversation that’s about as unpleasant as a fart. And now this baby who thinks she’s at some stupid amusement park.

“Th
ought you were leaving the baby,” Caesar says. “What happened?”

“
Sandy dying is what happened. No one woke her in time.”

“Is this going to be a problem for us?”

“I’ll take care of the kid. You won’t have to change any filthy diapers. Once we find someone else to dump her on then she’s gone.”

Caesar growls at the baby.
“I don’t want some kid slowing me down.”

When elevator doors open, h
e steps out with his shotgun. We both look down a staircase into the lobby. The area is filled with zombies so we search for an alternative exit.

“We’
re only roughly ten feet from the ground here,” I say. “How about we find somewhere we can jump down?”

We kick open the door to a middle condo to dis
tance ourselves from the undead. Inside, a family is scared shitless. A young father, his wife and their kid.

“T
ake anything you want,” the dad says.

“The
buildings are on fire and the infected are collecting in the lobby,” I say. “Stay here if you want but I just busted the lock on your door.”

“Oh god,” his wife says. “What are we going to do?”

We leave them and step outside. Just to the right of the balcony is a large drainage pipe that extends to the ground.

“You first,
” Caesar says.

“I have a baby
. And you have a bigger gun.”

“I’ll shoot you with it if you don’t go first.”

“Fine,” I say. “You better cover me. And don’t shoot the kid. I’m not in the mood to wear baby guts.”

I drop the diaper bag followed by Caesar
’s black bag into some bushes. We wait a few seconds to see if the noise goes unnoticed. It’s foggy. We can’t see very far but all seems fine out here. Things aren’t fine in the condo. Zombies are prowling around the living room. The family that was there hightailed it. I wonder if that’s their far-off screams I can hear?

“Move,
” Caesar says, climbing onto the pipe.

“Oh, now you want to go first?
”

“Shut up
. You don’t want them to know where we are.”

Lucky for us both, Ella fell
asleep.

Caesar slide
s to the ground. Right away he blasts the right arm, shoulder and part of the neck from what looks like a zombie insurance salesman. Guess he won’t be getting our business.

Ella is still asleep? What’
s up with this kid?

The infected
in the condo hear the noise (along with most of San Diego. That gun is loud) and start heading towards us. I waste no time and slide down to Caesar and pull out my handgun.

Caesar mo
tions with his shotgun. “After you,” he says.

Our pace
is slow as we walk down the road through foggy streets. I’m paranoid about this soupy air. An infected might snatch sleepy Ella from behind.

I rotate her carrier so she’s
on my chest.

She
wakes up, stares into the air like it’s a grey blanket and starts nodding off.

I’m awaiting the undead. Can feel them on the streets. Am I developing a sixth sense for
corpses?

Moans and footsteps
scratch the air around us. A shriek comes from our left; a cry from our right. Are the infected eating each other? Are other people out here in the fog trying to escape? Gurgling sounds echo through the grey. Caesar and I both aim, ready to pull triggers. My hands are shaky. Can’t see a thing. Everything in me says this is a bad idea. We should get off the streets.

Dark silhouettes appear
as the sun begins to rise. Are the infected walking in the same direction? They have no idea we’re here. I sure feel them. My heart pounds.

Caesar rests his shotgun on
a shoulder strap as he pulls out a machete from his bag. He raises a finger to his lips, pointing at the baby so I will keep her quiet.

A shadow
nearby seems to sniff at the air.

Caesar grips the handle of the
knife and is ready to attack.

The corps
e draws closer.

Caesar
sinks the blade into the top of its skull.

The zombie’s eyes cross. Its lip
twitches.

None of the other shadows
seem to take notice.

Cae
sar kicks the corpse’s head off the blade then pulls out another handgun and gives it to me.

A
gun in each hand makes me feel a little more prepared, though I’m still scared shitless. Especially since Ella starts crying. God this girl is moody.

“Ella, n
o,” I whisper.

The shadows
around us halt in the fog.

“Stupid kid,” Caesar says,
unloading shells in every direction.

The infecte
d appear and disappear as they’re blown away by the power of Caesar’s boomstick.

I
dispense round after round, clearing a path.

Ella screams from the noise. She’s nearly louder than some of the infected. I’
d give my current celibacy for the goddam binky I lost.

A gnarly-haired glam-
rock wannabe zombie gets close after I miss a few shots. The bastard is even wearing a cheesy bandana. Where the fuck is EdgeCrusher when I need him? I put the left hand gun in its snarling mouth and pull the trigger.