Southern Zombies Three Book Box Set: A Story of Survival, Southern Hospitality, and Southern Blood (9 page)

“They want the men to fight in matches against other men. They said if they refused, they would kill us, the women. I told them Trey is not going to fight that he is just a boy. So we will have a problem there if they try to take him.” I tell Diane.

“This is shit.” Diane says.

Marc says, “You know Becky, Kelley and Tammy will come looking for us if we aren’t back when we are supposed to be, right?”

“They will come to where we told them we were going Marc, but they don’t know where this shit hole is. So I don’t know how they will find us. We don’t even know where this place is. And what happens if they do come and these idiots roadblock them too?” I say.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Marc screams.

“This is so fucked up. They said y’all have two days to prepare for the fight. So, if it comes down to y’all having to fight, fight to kill. Don’t give one damn iota about killing one of these bastards because they will be out to kill y’all. And if either of you get killed I am kicking your asses all the way to hell and back.” I tell them all. Specifically aimed at Marc and Bobby, just to make myself clear to them.

“Well, that’s some shit. I’ve never been threatened with an ass kicking if I die.” Marc says.

“Get used to it. You are familiar with your Aunt aren’t you man?” Bobby asks Marc.

“Trey, if those ass wipes come to get you, act like you are sick. Do not get up for them. Lie there like you are sick and can’t get up. Do you understand?” I ask him.

“Yeah.” Trey says.

“Don’t make me kick your ass for not listening to me.” I tell Trey.

I get a big smile. Does he think I am playing with him?

So the goal here is to kill before you are killed. Bobby and Marc talk about how they are going to handle this.

They go over alternatives for weapons if they are a part of the fight. I tell them to choose close to what their opponent has.

If an opponent has a sword and one of them have a knife, there will be a major reach difference.

They both start preparing themselves for the battle by doing some exercising and stretching.

I am a WWE fanatic and MMA/UFC also. So I have watched enough fights to give them a few tips. I tell them to be aggressive and punch wisely. Don’t throw a punch that is not going to connect with its intended target. All that is going to do is make you tired. Use defense strategy. That will keep vulnerable parts protected. Be aware of the opponent always. Keep your eyes on them. Keep a few steps distance and only close the distance when you are ready to strike. Keep your balance.

They go through the exercising and stretching all day. Around nightfall, someone comes with food for us. I’m not sure I want it, but we can’t starve. I am getting out of this shit hole to cause some pain for some idiots.

Diane and I split the food with Marc and Bobby so they will get enough before they have to fight.

“So, what do you think?” I ask Diane.

“Hell, I don’t know. This is some sort of camp and from what I saw while I was out, they have been doing this for a while now. There are a lot of people here who are injured and some look undernourished. They have a big hole in the back outside that looks like it has had fires in it. I think they are burning people who have died or turned into zombies.

There are still zombies roaming around, but they have guard towers and they keep them away. I heard talk about some being made to fight the zombies in an arena. I mean, we have to deal with an apocalypse and a merry band of marauding idiots at the same time. I would rather deal with the zombies. At least you know what is on their mind.” Diane says.

“You got that right.” I tell Diane.

For the next two days, we can only sit and wait. Bobby and Marc are still preparing for their matches and Diane and I are trying to figure out how to get out. We thought about trying somehow to draw the zombies by putting some of our blood on pieces of cloth and dropping them outside our cell window. Only, we don't know if the zombies would overrun the camp and kill everyone or how we would get out if they did.

“We have to plan a way out.” I tell Diane.

“I know, but don't know how we will do that.” Diane says.

“Well, it has to be when they bring food or water and we need to make them bring Trey over to our cell when they take Bobby and Marc to fight. That way we will have him with us and won't have to worry about how to get him out. We can say he's still sick.” I tell her.

We have two hours before they come get Bobby and Marc. I have Trey and Diane look around for anything to use as a weapon. There is nothing. I plan on getting a guard to the cell after they come and get Bobby and Marc. Then Diane and I will try to take him down. I can only hope it's little Gremlin man that comes. I know we can take him.

“Are you ok?” I ask Bobby.

“Hell, I guess.” He says.

“Just remember what we talked about as far as defense. And remember you have to kill before you are killed. This is not up for negotiations.” I tell him.

“Yeah, I know. I just haven't had to fight in so many years and I'm not looking forward to it. But I promise I'll be coming back tonight.” He says.

I kiss him and tell him I love him. I talk to Marc and see how he is doing. Now, Marc is the type that doesn't start shit, but if shit starts with him, he's all up for an ass kicking. So I just want to make sure he has his head in the right place.

Soon we hear keys rattling.

Two guards go to Marc’s cell and two go to Bobby’s. I tell the guards we want Trey in our cell as he is still sick.

They bring him to us much to my surprise. I figured we would have to argue with them first.

The guards come to get me and Diane out and make us watch the fighting.

I tell Trey to lie quietly until we come back and he nods that he will. They lead us out of the hallway and into another corridor. We can hear shouts, cursing and all sorts of noise coming from ahead.

I whisper and tell Diane that must be the people who are fighting. We continue down the corridor and it eventually opens into an enormous room filled with people.

And in the center of that room is two fighting mats with cages lowered over them. Sitting at each front corner of each cage are tables that hold an assortment of weapons. I try to see what is there but can't because of the crowd. They lead Diane and I over to the right side of the cages and sit us on a bench. We can see clearly into each cage.

They put Bobby in a cage first and announce the first match. The man he is fighting looks to be about the same size may be slightly more muscled. Bobby chooses a Ka bar knife as his weapon, the other man takes a trench knife. Well, at least they are closely matched I think to myself.

Bobby gets in his fighting stance. I look over to his opponent who seems to be just standing there. Does he even know how to fight; I wonder? Bobby stands there for a second more and slowly starts towards his opponent. Finally, the man moves. He pulls his knife up and gets ready for a jab. Bobby stands there for a second and the man runs at him. Bobby sidesteps out of the way, but, as he does, he swings his blade at his opponent and catches him across the back. The man yelps in pain and Bobby steps in two steps and cuts across the man’s chest. Diane and I catch our breath, scared to utter any words.

The man slashes at Bobby again and now I can see that he doesn't know how to do this. Bobby takes advantage of the situation and jabs at his opponent and stabs him in the right side. The man falls to his knees and curses Bobby telling him he is going to kill him.

“If you are going to kill me, you better do it now because the next time, I will be cutting your throat out.” Bobby yelled the man.

“Fuck you.” The man tells him.

Bobby gets back in his fighting stance, the man rises from his knees, gets his knife pulled up and runs at Bobby again. Bobby caught him this time with a clothesline, the man is on his back and Bobby jumps straddle of him. Bobby hits the man in the jaw, gets off him and pulls him up on his knees. He gets behind the man and takes his Ka bar and slices from left to right across his throat. He cuts so deep you can see the man’s spine. The man gurgles as blood flows freely and Bobby drops him on the ground.

By this time Diane and I are crying, still afraid to say anything, and pray that this one is over.

Guards come and get Bobby and take him back out the way we came in. 

Marc is being shoved into the next cage. His opponent is nowhere close to Marc’s size. He looks like a madman on steroids. He tells Marc he is going to kill him and eat his heart. He says his name is Reaper. They each chose trench knives as weapons.

Really? Reaper?

Marc doesn't say anything to him. He gets into his fighting stance and waits for Reaper to attack. I am looking at Marc and see the concern in his eyes, but no fear. This is something he has done a lot. Not killing people mind you, but having to fight.

Reaper takes a step towards Marc and still, Marc doesn't move. He is biding his time for this jackass to mess up.

“What are you, a pussy?” Reaper asks Marc.

Marc just stares, not letting him get in his head. Marc knows he can't afford this big bastard to see any fear or and second thoughts. So he holds himself in spot and waits.

Reaper takes another step. At this point he is about four steps away from Marc. I see Marc move his knife slightly and get it ready. He is about to make a jab. Reaper takes one more step, Marc takes a step in to meet him and Marc slashes across Reaper’s abdomen.

“Oh, I see you have some fight in you little man. I'm going to take that fight out with every drop of blood.” Reaper tells Marc.

“Do it and shut the fuck up talking then.” Marc says.

I didn't know people could turn that shade of red with rage and anger, but Reaper did. He was looking for someone to cower and be afraid of him. And he hadn't gotten that in Marc.

Reaper ran at Marc and Marc sidestepped to the left, brought his right arm over his head and stabbed Reaper in the back. Reaper screamed in rage at Marc. Marc flipped him the finger.

“Does he really have to antagonize?” I ask Diane. She just smiles.

Reaper comes at Marc and tries to sidestep, but Reaper sticks his leg out and Marc falls. Reaper jumps on him and starts pounding him in the face and head. Marc is trying to block, but it's like trying to block a giant tree trunk coming at you. His steroid strengthened arms are as big as Marc’s waist. Marc finally gets a knee up and is able to knee Reaper in the family jewels. Reaper rolls off holding himself and Marc rolls the other way to try to get his balance and blurry vision in check.

Marc is finally able to get up. Reaper is still on the ground and Marc runs at him knife outstretched and sinks it into Reaper’s chest. Reaper screams out in pain and Marc twists the knife harder and pushes it further in. Reaper still squirms to get up, Marc pulls the knife out and slices the carotid artery on the left side of Reaper’s neck. Blood starts to flow and Reaper gurgles a couple of times and it's over.

Diane and I are sitting there crying again and thanking God that Bobby Marc weren't killed.

We were led back to our cells. Diane was allowed to go to Bobby and Marc and tend to wounds. I talk to Trey and tell him they are alright and he seems to relax. Diane gets their wounds cleaned and they both lay down to rest and recoup.

“We need to make a plan to get the hell out of here. I look out and see a horde of zombies gathering around the fence line and know they won't be able to keep them out forever. The more zombies that come, the more they will start to press in on that fence and it will eventually fall.” I tell Diane.

“Yeah, we do. I was thinking the next time they come in, we will watch and see who they send at what times. I don't want to make a move and we aren't able to take them down.” Diane said.

“Hey, come get this.” Bobby says.

I walk over to his window, and he is holding out the Ka bar to me.

“Holy hell. How did you get this out of the arena?” I ask Bobby.

“They didn't search me.” He says.

Well, at least there are a few stupid ones out there I think.

So I start making our plan of attack for the next time they come and get us.

************************************

Meanwhile, back at home.

“They should have done been back. Something is wrong, I know. I just have this feeling.” Becky, Marc’s wife said.