Less Than Human (14 page)

Like his mother.

Ross assumed she was out there somewhere, eating her way through the rest of her days. A thought inappropriately popped into his head, triggered by the memory of his wife; what would happen when there's no more food left? Sooner or later, all humans would become zombies. Or the humans would regain control. However, judging from what he had witnessed, Ross placed his money on the first scenario.

The entire East Coast... Gone...

That's what Ben had said. It was overrun. The government was going to blow it to hell.
Maybe there are doctors in the west that can help Landry,
he thought, looking down at his son's corpse.
Don't be stupid. He's gone. Dead. Ain't coming back. At least, not as the Landry you knew and loved.
Ross didn't want to witness his son's reanimation. He closed his eyes, tears still finding their exit regardless.

“
We really need to go,” Josh said. “C'mon.”

“
You guys go. I'm... staying.”

“
Ross, he's dead,” Ben said. “I know it's hard, but there's nothing you can do about it. Now come on.”

He shook his head. “What would you do if you got to Pittsburgh and your kid was dead, Ben?” Ross asked. “Don't tell me you wouldn't do anything different.”

Ben didn't say anything.

“
That's what I thought.”

For ten seconds, no one spoke. Ben nodded. A lump of air nestled in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Don't say anything,” Ross said. “There's nothing left to say.”

A low, raspy voice cackled. “Very touchin'. Ya'll got me teary-eyed.”

The group turned their attention to the crippled hillbilly. He was giggling, amused by the whole situation. Ross stood up, finally able to take his eyes off Landry. He limped over to Otis. He looked down at the beached whale, the one partially responsible (if not fully) for his son's demise. The images of the fast zombie ripping Landry's shoulder apart replayed inside his head.

“
You...” Ross spoke softly.

“
Nagger...” Otis muttered. “How's that boy of yours? Don' look so good from ova' hur.”

Ross screamed. He raised his right foot in the air, bringing it down on Otis's face with all of his strength. Something cracked, sounding like glass being caught between a shoe and the pavement. Ben assumed it was the bones in the fat man's face. Otis opened his large mouth and howled. Ross repeated his motion, his face stricken with rage. He watched with satisfaction as several of the hillbilly's teeth disappeared down the back of his throat. Otis choked. Ross stomped on him again. Blood pooled around his nose, then dripped down both sides of his face. Again. More blood. Gashes opened above his eyes, on his forehead. Again. More blood. More gashes. Cracking sounds. Screams. Ross kept marching on his face, furiously, as if he were trying to put out a small, yet potentially-dangerous fire.

Once Ross finished, his foot tired and aching, the psychopath's face was nothing but bloody chunks of bone and brain matter. He stopped when the splattering became too much. He glanced up from the fat man's grisly display and saw some of the zombies were getting too close for comfort.

“
Go,” Ross told the group.

“
What are you going to do, man?” Ben asked.

“
I'm going to bury my son,” he croaked tearfully.

Ben opened his mouth to argue.

“Go.”

Ben fixed his eyes on Ross, who avoided his gaze. Finally, Josh walked up behind Ben and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Come on. We can't stay any longer,” Josh told him.

“
We need to get my daughters,” Victoria told them.

Reluctantly, Ben began walking away from Ross. He watched the somber man bend down and scoop his boy into his arms.

Ben turned toward the Barker's house, wishing he could have done more to change the man's mind.

        
CHAPTER ELEVEN

V
ictoria stopped in front of the barn. “How do we find Brit and Emily?” she asked. She turned to the others. Behind them, an army of zombies had gathered. The survivors had put distance between them, but there were more of them than they had anticipated. One hundred or so corpses had found their way into the corral.

“
They probably put them back in the cages,” Josh suggested.

“
We should split up,” Ben said. “Victoria come with me. Josh, go with Paul. You guys go around to the front of the house. We'll take the back. We'll clear the house and meet up in the basement.”

“
What if that crazy bitch and her mother are still inside?” Paul asked.

“
We're going to
clear
the house,” Ben repeated. 

Paul nodded, understanding perfectly.

“Okay. Let's do this,” Ben said, heading toward the barn, which led to the back of the house.

J
osh opened the front door. He glanced back and saw the pickup truck sitting on the front lawn. He was relieved to find the yard void of zombies. As long as they survived whatever waited inside, they'd have a clear shot at the highway with no obstacles.

He crept into the door, weaponless. Paul followed.

“Maybe you should go first,” Josh whispered.

“
Good idea,” Paul agreed. “Which way?”

Josh pointed to the right of the staircase, down a long corridor leading to the kitchen. Paul followed his direction and crept forward, cringing each time he planted his foot and heard the creak of the old wooden floorboards. Josh's nerves swam violently, fearing the noise would alert their enemies. He suspected their intrusion wouldn't go unnoticed, in fact, he would find himself surprised if the two Barker women didn't already know about their arrival. He was worried they would find Brit and Emily dead, murdered for what had happened to the Three Little Pigs. The women were probably watching the entire hunt on the surveillance cameras. 

They tiptoed through the dining room and continued toward the kitchen. Josh thought about taking off his shoes to lessen the clatter, but he figured it wouldn't do much. Besides, he might need to run. Fast. Outside.

The kitchen became visible and Josh noticed something on the floor. Red droplets. A trail of them. Leading to the kitchen. Josh followed the trail with his eyes, spotting a big red puddle in the middle of the floor. He placed his hand on Paul's shoulder.

“I know,” Paul whispered. “I see it.”

They both peered into the doorway. They couldn't see right or left, their vision blocked by walls on both sides.

“I can't see anything,” Josh said.

Paul inched closer and peered into the kitchen, sticking his head into the doorway. He was careful not to give away his position to anyone who might be waiting for them inside. What he saw was limited, but useful. Another trail led away from the puddle. He followed it, but the door frame blocked wherever it led to. He glanced up, saw a row of cabinets on the far wall. An island lay in the middle of the kitchen. Papers, mail, and a telephone sat on the counter haphazardly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Paul saw something move.

It was a dark figure. Tall. It disappeared into the shadows of the unlit room.

Paul turned to Josh. He nodded, signaling it was time to go in.

Josh nodded back in agreement.

Quickly, they entered the kitchen. Paul had his rifle drawn, ready to fire on anything or anyone he considered a threat.

What the two of them saw made their mouths drop.

The trail of blood led to a headless corpse, which lay on the floor in front of them. Blood leaked onto the tile floor from where the woman's head used to be. The body was clad in a purple sun dress, yellow sunflowers printed on it.

Josh averted his eyes. Momma Barker's head had been placed on the island intentionally. Josh saw Bobbi-Jo had been strapped to the kitchen table. She was naked, her mouth covered with duct tape. Two long streaks of black mascara ran down her cheeks. She squirmed, but it was useless. Someone knew what they were doing when it came to tying knots. Bobbi-Jo saw Josh and Paul enter the room and screamed.

“Oh...” a familiar voice uttered from where they had entered the room. Josh and Paul spun around. Paul raised his rifle at the murderer's face. “Good to see you again...”

“
You...” Josh felt sick. The psycho's body was drenched in gore from head to toe. Blood splatter hid most of his face like a Halloween mask. Naked, he wore the old woman's blood like a scarlet suit. The sick bastard smiled, his teeth perfectly aligned and unstained. His cold, soulless eyes locked onto Josh's. Making eye-contact with him turned his stomach.

“
So glad you could join the party,” Jason said.

      
CHAPTER TWELVE

B
en kicked in the screen door, making his presence known. Not exactly the wisest of plans, but he figured he could draw the two remaining Barkers to the rear of the house, allowing Paul and Josh to reach the basement without being harassed. The plan made sense, at least in theory. Ben assumed there were would be complications, just as there had been every step of the way.

His brain focused on Jake, seeing his face again in his mind's eye.

Ben quickly glanced to the left, then to the right, his makeshift club in hand, ready to swing for the fences. He saw nothing in front of him except for an old washer and dryer that had once been white, but yellowed over the years due to prolonged nicotine exposure and poor maintenance. He moved into the laundry room, waving Victoria in.

Victoria followed Ben through the living room. Ben expected one of the Barker women to jump out of the closet or from behind the couch with a kitchen knife in their hand, ready to slash them to bits.

Ben sidestepped through the room, checking behind the couch, furniture, and any nook and cranny the room had to offer. When he was satisfied that the room was clear, he waved Victoria on once again.

A voice spoke from the neighboring room.

“So glad you could join the party,” someone said. Ben and Victoria exchanged looks. The voice was vaguely familiar, but they couldn't place it. 

Suddenly, it hit Ben. His eyes exploded with recognition. Victoria frowned. Then it hit her as well. Her eyebrows arched, her lips slowly parting.

It was that mouthy little punk Ross fought earlier.
Wasn't he dead?
Ben thought. Then he realized they never actually saw him meet his demise. Only heard it. Or thought they had.

They heard another voice utter “Holy shit.” That was Paul.

Another asked Jason what he had done. That was Josh.

Both voices harnessed a fearful tone.

Ben carefully approached the doorway, holding Victoria's hand, guiding her.

“
I think we should slowly make an appearance,” Victoria suggested calmly. “What do you say?”

Ben let go of her hand. He rummaged through his pocket, producing a key. He placed it in her hand.

“What is this?” she asked.

“
The key to the truck. Run to the basement, grab your girls and meet us out front.”

“
Are you sure?”

“
Don't waste any more time.”

She pocketed the key, kissed Ben on the cheek, and rushed back the way they came.

Once she had disappeared into the hallway, Ben crept toward the doorway.

J
ason picked the head off the island's counter and started eating the sinew and bloody strands of tissue that dripped from the bottom of Momma Barker's head. He chewed the dangling muscle as if it were cherry licorice, laughing while swallowing. With his other hand, he was fondling his semi-erect penis. As he consumed the dead woman's gore, he peered at Josh and Paul, a childish grin spreading across his face.

“
Ah...” Jason said. “Delicious.” He faced the table where Bobbi-Jo was fastened by blood-stained rope. He ran his fingers up her leg until he reached her vagina, then stopped. He massaged it gently. She whimpered softly through the rolled pair of socks taped in her mouth. “The things I'm going to do to you,” he happily boasted.

“
Turn around you... f-fucking w-weirdo,” Paul stammered, pointing the gun at the young man.

Jason stopped fingering Bobbi-Jo and faced them. “Ouch. I'm insulted,” he said sarcastically. “I'm afraid I've been called worse things. In my hometown, which happens to be a quaint little place outside of Atlanta, I'm called 'The Ripper.' After Jack, of course. I mostly stick to prostitutes—they disgust me—but, I'll make a few exceptions here and there.” He planted Momma Barker's head on the island. “These bitches underestimated me. They always do. They see a wimpy guy with glasses and a sharp mouth, and they think deep down I'm harmless. Well... I taught them, didn't I?”

They didn't answer the rhetorical question.

“
Didn't I?”
he asked more firmly.

“
Yes,” Josh said. “You sure did.” He felt like was going to be sick again. He wasn't sure if the drugs or the smell of blood was responsible for his nauseas.

“
That's right. I did,” Jason said. He patted the top of the old woman's head as if it were a good dog.

Behind Jason, Josh saw Ben appear. He slowly entered the kitchen, being careful not to make a sound. He glided across the tile, raising his bludgeon above his head.

“I'll make a deal with you and your friends. I know they're here somewhere,” he snarled.
“Just let me be.
Leave me here with the girls and let me have a little fun. In return, I won't follow you. I won't track you down and gut you like livestock. Deal?” Jason asked, smiling like a happy puppy.

Josh and Paul nodded slowly.

“Good. Now—”

Jason felt something strike him from behind. He went down instantly, smashing his head on the counter before hitting the tile floor.

“Jesus...” Ben said, upon noticing the old woman's head. He looked at Bobbi-Jo, who screamed to be unbound. “What the hell happened here?”

Josh didn't answer. Instead, he threw up.

B
en ripped the duct tape off her mouth. She spit out the pair of socks. Then screamed.

“
Did you miss me?” he asked.

She spat at him and started raving. “You keep me away from that sick motherfucker!” she screamed. “Keep him the fuck away!”

Ben turned away from her while she continued with her tantrum.

“
What are we going to do with him?” Paul asked. “We can't let the sick puppy live.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Wouldn't be right just shooting him in the head, I suppose? Considering what he done and all.”

“
We can't kill him,” Ben said. “He's not afraid of dying. It's just what he'd want us to do.”

“
I say we kick the shit out of him,” Josh muttered.

“
Josh...” Ben said.

“
Just a suggestion.”

There was a moment of silence, Bobbi-Jo breaking it by screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Where are the girls?” Paul asked. 

“
Victoria went to the basement to grab them.”

“
We should go get them,” Josh said.

“
You two go,” Paul told them. “Go on. I'll clean up here.”

“
You sure?” Ben asked.

The trucker nodded. He winked, then checked his rifle to make sure it had at least two bullets loaded. “Don't worry about it. You just get the girls out of here safely. I'll meet ya'll at the truck.”

Ben nodded. Then he turned to Josh, motioning toward the hallway.

Reluctantly, Josh followed.

“
M
om!” Brit cried out. She pressed her face against the chain-link cage. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Emily peered through the cage, just as her sister, while their mother sped forth.

“My babies,” she muttered somberly. “Did they hurt you?”

The girls shook their heads.

Victoria closed her eyes, relieved.

“
Do you have the key?” Brit asked.

“
What key?”

“
They cage is locked.”

“
Shit. I didn't think of that.”

Creaky footfalls descending the stairs filled the basement.

“Looking for this?” Ben asked. He held the shiny brass key in front of him like a cross used for fending off vampires.

Victoria took it from him, grinning. She hurriedly turned back to her confined daughters. Once the lock was opened, the girls pushed open the cage and hugged their mother as if it had been years since their last encounter. There had been much debate whether they would ever see her again.

Tears rolled down Brittany's cheeks, disappearing into her mother's shirt. Emily sobbed into her mother's shoulder.

“
I hate to break up the reunion,” Josh said, “but we should probably get going.”

The three girls turned to the two men, who looked like they had just come back from battle. Dirty. Bloody from cuts and scrapes on their arms and face. Worn faces that could use a few hours of sleep. Or perhaps a few days.

“Josh is right. We don't have long before—”

Before Ben could finish, glass shattered above them, the inhuman sounds of the gathering dead filled the first floor.

Then the screams began.

T
hey reached the top of the stairs. Ben turned to Josh, handing him the key to the truck. “Take the girls to the truck. Give me two minutes. If I'm not out, leave without me.”

Josh nodded, grabbing the key from Ben. He waved the three women on and the four of them disappeared into the hallway.

Ben went the opposite way, following the sounds of the dead.

What the hell are you thinking?
his inner-voice asked.
You should be running away from them, not toward them! Think of your son for fuck's sake!

The voice was right. Why risk his life to save somebody he barely knew? Jake depended on him.

I can't just let Paul die...

Ben's conscious would never let him forgive himself. He had to try to save the man, pull him out of the fire so to speak. It was in his nature, his
human nature
, and Ben didn't really understand why anymore than he knew the intricacies of the universe. He only knew he had to try.

Ben appeared in the doorway leading to the kitchen. His stomach plummeted. The zombies had broken through the back door, crowding the kitchen. At least fifteen of them. Several of them were latched onto Bobbi-Jo, ripping chunks of flesh away from her body with their jagged teeth. The teenager wailed as the monsters tore the meat away from her bones easily.

Jason, “The Ripper” he had called himself, was on the floor, crawling away in crab-like fashion from the macabre scene unfolding on the table. A nearby zombie followed him, and unfortunately for Jason, it was quicker. The corpse lunged and grabbed the kid's legs, biting at his ankles. The psychopath yelped, thrashed his legs in hopes to separate himself. The zombie held on, aiming his next attack at the dangling organ between his legs. Jason let out a torturous scream when the corpse bit down on his flaccid penis and reared its back. The kid's floppy member snapped like a rubber band. An explosion of blood splashed over the zombie's face as it began devouring the reproductive organ. Jason started twitching on the floor, entering into some sort of seizure. The rest of the dead swarmed him, began consuming his untouched parts.

Ben turned his head from the grisly scene, focusing his attention on the reason he went back. Paul Scott wrestled with a zombie, fending him off with the rifle. Paul caught Ben's gaze and shook his head, snarling.

“Get the fuck out of here, Ben!” Paul screamed.

Ben stepped forward to help, but an energized zombie jumped over the island and tackled Paul to the ground. The other zombie fell with them, and the two hissing beasts began gnawing on Paul's limbs. Ben backed into the hallway. Under the weight of the two corpses, Paul positioned the end of the rifle under his chin. He winked at Ben as the one of the zombies tore a scrap of flesh from his arm. Then, Paul pulled the trigger. His brains exploded through the top of his skull, painting the tile floor burgundy.

Ben scampered out of the kitchen, the dead focusing their attention on the doorway.

J
osh saw Ben bound the porch steps, dozens of zombies in tow. They poured out of the Barker's house like bees from a hive. Some of them were quicker than others, but Ben was fastest. He ran across the front lawn as if the Grim Reaper were nipping his heels.

“
Start moving!” Ben shouted.

Josh started to do what Ben had said when something caught his eye. It came shambling out of the Barker's country home. His body went numb and tingly. “Oh shit,” he muttered to himself.
Olivia Vander stumbled down the steps after Ben. Her mother followed closely behind. Both women looked hideous; patches of skin was missing from their faces, exposing the raw muscle beneath; blood-soaked clothes; eyes containing no souls. She barely resembled the Olivia that Josh knew and almost loved.

“
Josh!” Ben screamed.

Josh snapped out of his semi-romantic reveries, shifting the truck out of idle. Slowly, the truck crept away from the Victorian home. Ben did his best Bruce Willis impression, diving into the bed. Brit was there to help him in safely. Once his limbs cleared the end of the truck, Brit closed the gate. Josh slammed his foot on the gas. The truck sped off, spitting dirt and grass at the approaching horde.