Tails of the Apocalypse (25 page)

She surveyed her work. Not enough. They’d have it cleaned in seconds. A cup of bloody teeth and filthy nail shavings sat on the counter next to the table. Surly found it light enough to pick up with her claws. She dumped it and the teeth skittered across the table, leaving bloody trails behind them.

The men were coming. The table was as dirty as she could make it. She glided over the heads of the men to the top of one of the shelves. Surly heard them swearing as they saw the table. She tucked her head under her wing, confident she’d distracted them enough.

After a few moments of swearing, the men had started the fire again, trying to boil enough water to sterilize the table and tools again. Surly had fallen asleep waiting for Joe, sure she’d delayed the men for long enough. When she woke to the screams of an Infected, she knew they’d returned to their grisly dental work. She tried to come up with another plan to stop them, even though she thought it pointless. Humans didn’t learn. They were so stubborn. But Joe thought it was important, so she fluttered down to the floor and the safety of deep shadows.

A new Infected was strapped down to the table. Gray was back, yanking teeth with a satisfied grin. The man on the table writhed and screamed, choking on the blood that spilled from his gums. Surly didn’t know what good it would do to try to stop Gray. He’d just go get another.

She didn’t even know why she cared. She didn’t like when things suffered, but it was how the world worked. Big ate little. Fast beat slow. Strong took weak’s food and mates and home.

But Joe cared. He wanted to change how it worked. And Surly Shirley was realizing she cared about Joe. So Gray had to stop because Joe wanted him to stop. The world had to change.

She hopped under the metal table, unseen by the men. She stood near Gray’s legs, looking for a vulnerable spot. Then she sank her beak into the meaty part of one leg. There was a clatter above her as he dropped the pliers and bent down, his hand swatting blindly. She waited until she saw his face, then pecked as hard as she could before hopping out of reach.

She’d missed his eye. Surly darted in again, grim and silent. She bit his ear and hung on for a second. Gray roared and Surly let go, intending to flutter away for another pass, but she was too late. One of the other men grabbed her right out of the air. She tried to claw his arm, but he just squeezed. It hurt and she went limp, hoping it would make him relent.

“Give me that fucking chicken,” growled Gray. The man handed her over, and Gray flung her against the wall near the trash can. She hit and tumbled, seeing stars. Surly struggled to get upright but couldn’t stand. She lay on the floor next to the can, stunned and in pain.

Gray turned back to the Infected. Surly knew she was powerless to stop him now. The screams resumed. Surly lay on the cold linoleum and listened to them for hours. She thought hearing that constant shrieking would push all the words she knew right out of her brain. All that’d be left would be the unending sound of human screaming.

At last the door opened and the cool, clean air ruffled through Surly’s feathers. She saw Joe’s boots, and then another pair. Bloody and sweating, Gray turned around from his gruesome work.

“Who the hell is this, Joe?” he asked, brandishing the pliers, a bloody tooth still clasped in them.

“I wanted to show you. I knew if you heard it for yourself, you’d help me get the Cure to the herd.”

Gray motioned for the other men to take the Infected out. “You’re from the City?” he asked the stranger.

The other pair of boots shuffled. “Yes, I’m one of the soldiers defending it. We have plenty of room. We can take you all. We just have to go a few miles and we’ll reach the nearest Cure camp—”

“There’s no such thing,” snapped Gray.

“Oh, but there is. I know it seems impossible, but the Cure works. I’ve seen it myself. It takes a few days, but they wake up perfectly sane.”

“See?” said Joe. “And the City has food and electricity, Gray. We could go back to normal there. All of us. No more fighting, no more starving, no more running from guys with more guns. We can be there tonight.”

Gray seemed to consider it as he moved closer to the two men. He dropped the pliers on the table and wiped his hands on his pants, leaving dark brown bloodstains. Surly wanted to call a warning, but she couldn’t. She didn’t know if she was paralyzed from the fall earlier or from fear. Gray was bad. All bad. Deep-down bad. He didn’t want to quit, he wanted to keep hurting forever. It was like a foul odor that came off Gray in waves. How did Joe not see it? Surly tried again to say anything, make any sound. But she couldn’t.

“Oh, Joe,” said Gray when he was standing a few inches from him, “what did you do?” His hand flashed out and he grabbed the soldier by the throat.

“No! Stop!” cried Joe, trying to pull Gray’s hand away. But he was too late. Gray flipped his knife out with his free hand and plunged it into the soldier’s neck. He released the dying man, and the soldier choked to death on his own blood as he slumped to the floor.

“I told you never to question me again, Joe. I told you what I’d do. Now you made me kill an innocent guy, ’cause you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was keep it zipped for two more days. Two days, Joe.”

“But he had the Cure. We can save them all—”

Gray grabbed Joe’s shirt and shook him. “When are you going to get it through your thick skull? I don’t
want
to save them.
Nobody
wants to save them. They just don’t want to have to fight ’em anymore. I’m making them useful. Obedient. Safe. Fuckable.
Profitable
, Joe. I’m turning lemons into lemonade. But you had to interfere. Now this guy’s friends are going to come looking for him. I’m going to have to push up the timeline. We’re going to have to move faster and get out of here tonight. Roll up your sleeves and find a pair of pliers and let’s go.”

“No,” said Joe. “I’m not helping you do this.”

Gray twisted the knife and let it shimmer in the pale light of the camp lantern.

“You want to hurt me for not helping, Gray, you go ahead and try. I think it best we part ways instead. I never joined you for this.”

Gray sneered. “You
didn’t
join me, Joe. I
saved
you. You were blind drunk in that bar because you were so scared. Just waiting to die. Just waiting to be eaten alive. I found you. I saved you. You
owe
me.”

“I don’t owe you this. I’m not going with you, Gray. I’ve gone along with too much. You said we were going to protect people. You said we were going to keep families safe from the Infected. And I believed you. I thought we were going to be like superheroes, fighting the zombies together and making the neighborhood normal again. I never wanted to be a slave trader or a murderer. Or a—or a
pervert
. I’m done. I’m going to the City. If you want to come with me, then I’ll take you. If you just want to hurt people, then I’m done.”

He took a step toward the fallen soldier, and Gray sprang after him, whistling loudly for his men. Joe turned and his arm slammed like a piston into the center of Gray’s chest. Even as he fell backward with a gasp, Gray slashed wildly at Joe, but he was too far away.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Gray,” Joe growled. But the sadist wasn’t listening. His blood was up. Gray recovered his feet and lunged again, making contact this time. The two men fell to the hard floor, and the entire shop seemed to shake. Surly tried to twitch her wings, her claws, anything to move. To help Joe.

Gray was quick and straddled Joe as they both struggled for the knife. His men were finally responding to the whistle and joined the fight, helping their boss to pin Joe down.

“I told you what would happen if you talked back, Joe. I warned you.” Gray punched Joe’s broken nose and the injured man groaned, unable to shield his face.

Surly finally managed to move one wing. She tried harder, flexing her claws.

“Joe’s betrayed us. He’d rather save those monsters than help his friends,” said Gray, getting up. As Joe moaned on the floor, clutching his face, Gray aimed a savage kick at Joe’s stomach. The other men joined in.

Surly managed to roll onto her stomach and pushed up with her feet. She was upright but dizzy. Her heart raced, and she was panting again. She had to rest for just a second.

“After everything we’ve done, Joe. We shared our food with you. Kept you from being devoured by the Infected. Gave you purpose. Let you tag along even though you were slower than the others. And you betray us?”

There were too many men now to fit around Joe, and they had to take turns beating him. Surly wondered who was watching the Infected. She gently flapped her wings, testing them. No way. She wouldn’t be able to do it in time.

“That’s enough, boys. I want to make sure he remembers this lesson. Get him onto the table.” Gray picked up the pliers. He leaned over Joe. “You know what’s coming,” he growled. Joe twisted and whipped for a few seconds, until the others restrained him, smashing him hard onto the table. “Open your mouth,” ordered Gray.

Surly flapped again. Her wings were finally starting to work. She hopped a little. Everything ached and she had a whistle deep in her chest, but there was no more time to recover. Not if she wanted to help Joe.

“I need more light,” shouted Gray and one of the men ran to the door beside Surly and opened it so the morning sun streamed in, spotlighting Joe as he writhed on the table. The man propped open the door so he could return to aid Gray, who told another man to hold Joe’s nose closed. That forced Joe to open his mouth.

Surly saw her chance. No one was watching. She could go. She could fly away and never see this place again. She could find the warm sun and ripening berries and clean air. She didn’t need to help Joe. She didn’t even need to think about him or Gray or the screaming Infected ever again.

What had humans ever done for her? She didn’t like them, she reminded herself, and they’d always hated her. Ten years in the pet shop and never adopted. Why did she need a human now? No one had ever been kind to her. Not the owner, not the attendants or customers, not even the other animals.

But that wasn’t quite true, was it? Joe had been kind to her. He’d stroked her feathers and cared for her. He’d kept the other man from eating her, like they’d eaten Princess.

Joe screamed behind her, and Gray laughed wickedly. He had Joe’s tongue pulled too far past his lips with the pliers. Surly at last gathered her strength and burst upward with an echoing shriek, one she’d heard over and over from the Infected the night before.

Gray’s men whirled around, panicking and releasing their hold on Joe. Gray barked orders and they scattered to find the Infected that were on the loose. But Gray wouldn’t be moved from his task. His knife slithered through the thick sponge of Joe’s tongue, slicing half of it off.

Joe’s gagging screams filled the shop as Gray turned to face the bird. Surly dove like a hawk, attacking the arm holding the knife, tearing the skin of his hand with her claws, still screaming like the Infected, echoing Gray’s deeds back at him. She took off again and landed on the back of his neck, slamming her wings into his head.

Joe turned to his side on the table, coughing on a mouthful of blood. Surly stabbed at Gray’s ears and cheeks with her beak, trying to work her way around to his eyes while avoiding the man’s hands clutching for her as she attacked the back of his neck. He was shouting for his men to return, to help him. Surly didn’t let up, screaming the Infected’s shriek and battering Gray as he backed further into the pet shop.

Attracted by the shouts and no longer herded back into the large clothing store, the Infected had sprinted to the pet shop. Gray’s men struggled to control them. For weeks the Infected had been bound and walked to the point of exhaustion, fed only enough to keep them on their feet. Gray’s men had become lazy and neglectful, lulled by the seeming ease of controlling them. But the Infected were well rested by their pause at the mall and the screams from the pet shop had excited them. Some had torn their hands free of the ropes that bound them and clawed at their captors or pulled the mouthpieces from their own faces. One had gnashed through his mouthpiece while his hands were still bound. He roared, tattered streamers of cloth drooping and fluttering around his neck like an old shroud as he closed his ragged teeth on a captor’s shoulder.

Gray’s men were surrounded, and they brandished knives and axes as if it would deter or delay anything. The bitten man howled and bashed at his attacker. Another Infected growled deep in her throat and leaped onto the bitten man’s back, clawing at his throat. Disoriented by the parrot’s frenzied attack, Gray stumbled right into the middle, pushing past a few of the Infected without even realizing it. The cluster of Infected closed in, roaring and grabbing at Gray and his men.

Surly swooped away, wary of the snapping jaws as the Infected began to feed. She heard Joe tumble from the table behind her and turned in a tight loop. For the slightest second, she could see him lying on the floor near the open back door. The sun highlighted his bruised, swollen face. A pool of blood spread under his cheek as it dripped steadily from his mouth.

Then someone’s hand shot out of the tangle of teeth and claws and skin. It grabbed her, hard. She was spun around now, feathers bending between Gray’s clumsy fingers. The fury on his face scared her more than his iron grip did.

“Fucking chicken…” he hissed, wrapping his other hand around her and squeezing harder. Surly Shirley shrieked. A parrot scream, her true voice, crying out in pain as she felt her left wing bones snap.

One of the Infected bit down on Gray’s leg and with a roar he let Surly go. She hurtled through the air, slamming hard to the floor and sliding into the back room. She lay there for a few long moments, the chaotic fight behind her fading beneath the pain electrifying her body. Short reports of gunfire followed by shouts brought her back to reality. She realized Gray’s men were shooting their Infected, trying to save themselves.

The melee died down as Gray regained control and the men left to restrain and herd the remaining Infected and fix their own wounds. Surly struggled to stand up, wobbling and dragging her broken wing. The whistle in her chest was louder now. She tottered up to Joe’s face. His eyes were closed.