Die Dead Enough (15 page)

Three feet away, the zombie's lips drew back, yellowed teeth showing as it growled.

Just then Aiden called out again, the zombie jerking its head to the side in curiosity. Bo sprinted toward the door, Klaus kicking it open as he reached it. Bo hurled himself inside, knocking Klaus to the side, both men spinning to slam the door shut once again. The zombie managed to get both arms inside, preventing them from sealing it completely.

"Shit!" Klaus said, throwing his shoulder against it, recoiling from the stench of the thing.

Bo tossed the bag across the room and threw his weight against the door as well. The creature's arm bones crackled, the force too much as both men shoved the door like linebackers.

"This is the last time I save the day," came Jasper's voice from just behind them. He stepped up, placed the barrel of his shotgun through the narrow opening against the zombie's forehead and fired. It threw the thing backwards enough for them to close the door. Several more zombies arrived, slamming against the bars as they locked and barricaded the door once more.

Bo and Klaus turned to see Jasper leaning heavily against a shelving unit with a bloody and tattered smile on his face.

"How 'bout one of you stitch me up now, huh?"

"Okay, they made it!" Conor called down. Just as he finished his sentence, he saw a lone figure coming from across the street, smashing through trees and shrubbery, sprinting impossibly fast toward Aiden's position. "Get out of there, Aiden! Now! Get up here!"

Aiden glanced out the window to see what Conor was warning him about.

"What is it? I don't see-"

In the distance he could make out the small silhouetted figure growing larger at an alarming rate.

"Holy shit," he said and turned to run for the staircase.

A bloated, shirtless zombie was standing in the kitchen entryway, staring at him. Dark fluid ran down its chin and over its hairy belly as its now wrinkled like an animal in preparation for attack.

The thing suddenly rushed him, dragging one useless leg. Had this not slowed it, Aiden would have been killed. He managed to get the rifle up in time to get off one round, destroying the side of the monster's face, spinning it in a circle.

The thing came back at him, tattered arms reaching out as it lunged. Aiden threw the rifle up parallel to the ground and shoved it sideways into the zombie's mouth, pushing it backwards into the kitchen. Even with a mangled leg, it was insanely strong and took some effort to move.

"Aiden!" Conor called out. "Come on, man!"

"Occupied!" Aiden shouted as he wrestled with the monster, forcing it up against the stove, glancing around feverishly for a way to dispose of it once and for all. He saw an open pantry, shelves stocked with foodstuffs, but knew the flimsy sliding door would never hold the zombie.

Not far from the pantry he saw what could only be the basement door and twisted to push the zombie toward it. It groaned and spit as it struggled to get its arms around him.

"Aiden! The other one's almost here! Ah, fuck it, I'm comin' down," Conor said from above.

"No!" Aiden called out. "I got this, just give me a second."

In a flash, Aiden let go of the rifle with one hand and twisted the doorknob, opening the basement door. He then maneuvered the creature closer and kicked the door open with his toe. He hurled the zombie forward, the thing stumbling as it hit the top step and pitching into the darkness. The rumble of growling and moans came up from below as Aiden saw multiple undead faces emerging from the black at the bottom of the steps.

"Fuckin' hell!" he said as he slammed the door. He quickly glanced up and down the frame and noticed no locking mechanism.

He turned to make for the staircase and saw a crazed zombie burst through the front door of the house, smashing it to splinters, the hinges ripping from the frame. It fell to its knees, teeth bared, yellow eyes hectically searching the room. It was naked, its skin blue and filthy, covered in scabbed-over sores and blood. Its fingertips had been worn away, the pale ends of bare bones now exposed as it scratched nervously at the hardwood flooring.

It hasn't seen me. Should I try for the stairs or hide? That thing's way faster than I am. Probably catch me before I get to the top.

The basement door crashed outward and Aiden made his decision, sprinting toward the staircase. He had only reached the third step when the blue-skinned zombie leapt at him.

Jesus. God, save me. Run, run, run!

He scrambled up, shins cracking loudly against the steps as he ran. he knew the monster was right behind him, breathing down his neck, teeth ready to consume his flesh. Any moment and he would feel the claws sink into his legs.

Fuck.

He spun, deciding to take action instead. He dropped down to sit on the second step from the top and leveled his gun just as the creature reached him, its forehead actually knocking against the end of the barrel. Aiden pulled the trigger and continued pulling it, the thing's head thrown back as it tumbled down the steps one at a time.

Aiden was frozen as the zombie rolled to the bottom of the steps and remained motionless. The others began to move toward the staircase from the kitchen and Aiden took aim at the nearest creature's head.

Click.

Oh, shit. Ammo's gone.

Then the blue thing stood straight up, its head now hanging chin to chest. Some supporting muscles had been destroyed by Aiden's rain of bullets and could no longer function. The monster leaned back, putting its head in position to see Aiden above. Its mouth opened wide and it screamed, a high-pitched horrifying sound that shook the windows of the house and put Aiden's hair on end.

It came racing up the steps, body slamming against the wall to its left as it came, hands and feet scraping the stairs as it rocketed toward Aiden.

He was already on the move.

"Conor!" he shouted as he flew down the hall toward the bedroom.

Behind him, the zombie thrashed, hurtling after him, nearly out of control, shoulders and elbows bouncing from the walls, unable to properly get its bearings.

"Come on!" Conor shouted, pistol pointed toward the bedroom door as he leaned out of the trapdoor. Aiden charged through the doorway with a look of utmost fear on his face, the blue thing hot on his heels. He struck the door frame with his right shoulder, throwing himself off-balance, sending him over the bed. Jumping to his feet, he leaned to the side just as the zombie struck the wall next to him.

Aiden fell to his backside, kicking at the creature as it struggled to grab him. Shots rang out as Conor fired rounds into the thing, screaming all the while.

"Get up! Come one! Get up here!" Conor said. "Aiden!"

On hands and knees, Aiden crossed the room in the blink of an eye. The other zombies were now at the door, moving closer. Aiden hit the steps, pulling himself up in desperation as Conor reached out a hand.

"You got it! Go, go!" Conor said.

The blue thing was suddenly there at the bottom of the steps. It lurched forward, wrapping one hand around Aiden's leg, its nails digging into the denim of his jeans.

This is it. I'm fucking dead.

"Ah! Shit, he's got me!" he screamed as he struggled with all of his strength to climb the steps.

The thing growled, throwing its face forward, teeth-first, aiming for Aiden's calf. Aiden spun, kicking out hard with his other foot.

"Shoot the bastard!" he called out to Conor, who took aim and fired as fast as the gun would shoot.

"Aiden, no!" Trish cried out, her face appearing above, beside that of Conor. "Conor, kill it! Kill it!"

Aiden could feel other undead hands reaching up between the steps as the remaining zombies gathered around them, pulling at his shirt from below.

"Take this!" Trish said and dropped a machete through the trapdoor and into his lap. He kicked out again as he removed it from its sheath, keeping the blue thing's gnashing teeth at bay. He leaned forward and brought the blade down hard on the zombie's forearm, chopping it cleanly in two. The thing fell away, tumbling to the carpet as Aiden frantically pulled himself up into the attic, the disembodied hand still clutching his lower leg.

He and Conor grabbed the ropes at either side of the trap door and began hauling the steps up against the weight of the other zombies as they struggled to pull them down.

"Come on!" Aiden grunted, his palms burning with the effort. Finally one of the monsters lost its grip and the steps came up quickly just as the blue-skinned zombie gathered itself and jumped for them, wedging its good hand into the opening as they slammed it.

The creature was howling like a banshee, nails carving grooves in the wood as Aiden chopped them off with the machete. They could hear the sound of the thing falling to the floor below.

"Here, let me get that thing off of you," Conor said, pulling against the sticky hand that remained attached to his brother's calf. He pried each finger away, finally breaking its hold and walking to the broken window to toss it outside.

For a moment the only sound in the attic was the sound of their heavy breathing, each dropping to the floor, glancing at each other anxiously.

"Go ahead and say it..." Aiden said, putting his face in his hands. His heart would not stop pounding like jungle drums in his chest.

"That was fuckin' stupid," Conor said with a nod. "Is that what you meant?"

"Yep. That was it... and you're right, it was," Aiden said. "But I wasn't expecting that blue motherfucker. What the hell was that thing? I've seen zombies run, but not like that. Must've been a goddamned track star before he got bit."

"No more Rambo shit, brother," said Conor, slapping Aiden on the shoulder.

"Agreed."

"Did the others get their first aid kit?" asked Trish, moving closer to Aiden.

"They fucking better have," said Aiden with a laugh. "I'm not doing that again."

"Yeah, they got it," Conor said. "The plan worked. Here, have a beer, brother. You deserve it."

"Hold still, Jasper. What the hell?" Klaus said, bringing the tip of the needle down for another stitch.

"I'm tryin', dammit. Shit hurts," Jasper said, clutching a bottle of whiskey in one hand. "This shit ain't numbing it enough, that's fer damn sure."

"Well, I'm just tryin' to make you pretty again," Klaus joked, getting a chuckle from Bo who sat nearby, flipping through the pages of a men's magazine. "Stop movin' around. I've almost got this jigsaw pieced back together."

"Can you straighten my nose, doc?" Jasper asked. "Been crooked since that fight with Randy Van Veen in the tenth grade. Bastard had a crazy right hook."

"Get in lots of fights, Jasper?" Bo asked, turning the magazine on its side to get a better view.

"Hell, yeah, I did. Used to start a lot o' shit when I was a kid. Even after I grew out of it, that reputation stuck with me. Everyone wanted to challenge me..."

"Even back in the eighteen hundreds?" Bo asked with a grin.

"Oh, that's funny, you shithead. At least I kept my slim girlish figure. Not sure you all could say the same. I can still-"

Jasper suddenly froze in place, his eyes appearing glazed and distant.

"Oh, shit..." he said. "I... I don't feel so good, boys..."

"I'm done, Jasper," said Klaus, studying the old man's face once more. "The sickness is hittin' you, that's all. You'll be all right.
I
made it through."

Beads of sweat erupted on the old man's forehead and he blinked his eyes rapidly, losing focus.

"Whew...." he said. "I'm not gonna like this, am I?"

"Nope."

"How's the face look?" Jasper asked, leaning heavily to one side.

"Like a map of a subway system," Klaus replied with a smile.

"Heh!" Jasper said and fell against Klaus' shoulder.

"Let's get him comfortable. He'll be fine by tomorrow," Klaus said, gently placing the man on his back upon the floor.

"You be okay, Jasper," Bo said, patting his arm. "We'll save you some Slim Jims. Okay, gramps?"

"Ffffuck youuu......" Jasper mumbled and was immediately unconscious.

The sound of blaring horns suddenly came from the parking lot, snapping them to attention.

"What the-?" Klaus said and hopped to his feet. He and Bo left Jasper and made their way to the front of the store.

Several tricked-out trucks roared into the parking lot, sporting confederate flags and Duck Dynasty stickers. The beds of the trucks were full of men, nearly thirty, Klaus guessed and they were all armed to the teeth.

"Come on, boys! We hit the gun shop, now it's time to stock up on hooch!" one of them shouted as the group leapt to the ground. Shotgun blasts exploded as they began to eliminate the zombies that occupied the area.

"Ha, ha! Look at 'em twitch! I never get tired o' that!" another yelled.

"Bobby, take some guys inside and clean this place out," another man ordered as he stepped from the driver's seat of a huge Dodge Ram. The others immediately obeyed, a slight expression of fear in their eyes. "Leave enough boys out here to hold off these dead fuckers."