The Adventures of Steve and Terry: The Zombie Chronicles (14 page)

A fiery explosion rocked the
building. When they stood, they found the entrance a smoking ruin, burned and
dismembered zombies lying everywhere.

“Here’s our chance!” Steve yelled.
“If we can get to the grounds department, there should be vehicles there.”

They gathered themselves and
cautiously made their way into the night. Zombies began to swarm on them. Steve
threw a small vial at one group. The explosion scattered the creatures,
throwing limbs and other pieces into the air.

Andy and Rick made use of their
flame throwers. The fire didn’t actually kill or hurt the zombies, but being
lit up like a Christmas tree really seemed to disorient them. Butch and Joey
used the vials of nitroglycerin much like hand grenades, just packing a lot
more punch.

They slowly made their way towards
the grounds department. They were running across a large quad when Joey
suddenly tripped, falling face first to the ground. He broke the nitroglycerin
bottle strapped across his chest and the resulting explosion took everyone from
their feet. Butch landed hard, and he too exploded.

Steve slowly got to his feet, his
head fuzzy and his ears ringing. Pieces of Joey and Butch were slowly falling
back to earth like fleshy hail. Steve shuddered and pulled a bloody piece of
something off his shoulder and flicked it away. He saw Terry, a good fifteen
feet away, looking as dazed as Steve felt. He then spotted Andy, who was just
climbing to his feet and then Rick, who lay unmoving on his back.

Steve drunkenly made his way to
Terry. Then both collected Andy. When they reached Rick they found his neck
broken.

“Well that went well,” Terry said,
shaking his head.

“Come on, they said the grounds
department was this way,” Steve said, getting them moving once again.

They stayed in a tight formation
as they ran across the grounds. They saw no living people, nothing but zombies.
They spotted the grounds building and all blew a sigh of relief. They were
crossing a tree covered quad when a group of dead swarmed. Steve and Terry
managed to shoot their way through, but Andy got caught. Steve pulled his
pistol as Andy fought to keep the walkers from pulling him down. Steve opened
fire on the group, hitting Andy in the leg.

“Ow! Holy shit, don’t shoot
me
!”
he cried angrily.

Andy slugged one zombie with his
flame thrower, then elbowed another. He flipped one over his shoulder and then
backed out of the group. He opened up with his flame thrower, lighting them all
up. The zombies screamed and stumbled around. Andy started to limp back toward
Steve and Terry. He was almost there when a flaming zombie stumbled into him
and wrapped him up. Andy screamed and spun. Steve, in one of the best and worst
shots of his life, managed to hit the zombie in the head. But unfortunately it
passed through the zombie’s head and hit the gas tank Andy was wearing on his
back. Andy heard the hiss and spun, but it was too late and the tank exploded.

Steve and Terry were knocked from
their feet, hitting the ground hard and having the wind knocked from their
lungs. Both rolled over coughing.

“Nice shot,” Terry said.

“I—I killed Andy,” Steve said,
pushing to his hands and knees.

“I noticed.”

“But you’re right, that was one
hell of a good shot.”

“Come on, the grounds building is
just over there.”

They reached the building to find
a large fenced off parking lot with several trucks. They shot off the lock and
quickly found the key box holding all the keys. As they drove across campus
they saw fires burning everywhere and zombies filling the grounds.

“You know, for being Marvard and
all, I really wasn’t impressed,” Steve said.

“Well, it is the middle of a
zombie apocalypse; I guess we should take that into account.”

“True, true.”

They quickly left the prestigious
Marvard behind, on the road to their next adventure.

IX. Elysium
Asylum

“But I gotta pee.”

“I told you to go last time we
stopped for gas.”

“But I didn’t have to go then.”

“You can hold it.”

“But I gotta go bad!”

Terry looked over angrily to see
Steve shifting from side to side in his seat. “Fine!”

It was midnight, near as they
could tell, a full moon providing an eerie light. Terry pulled the truck over
to the side of the road. They had been driving through a winding forest road,
nowhere near civilization as far as they knew. Steve jumped out of the truck
and disappeared into the trees. Terry impatiently tapped on the steering wheel.

He was looking around, not really
hearing or seeing anything in the darkness. Suddenly, something thudded into
the side of the truck. Terry stopped his tapping and looked around, but didn’t
see anything. The soft thud came again. Terry got a little nervous at this. He
grabbed his shotgun and slowly climbed out of the truck. He scanned the trees,
but didn’t see anything. Terry stepped away from the truck and slowly crouched
down to look under it, but still nothing.

Terry stood up and froze. Sticking
out of the rear tire were two arrows. Terry looked quizzically at the arrows.
He stepped up to find they were both wood, with actual feather fletchings. He
suddenly spun, gun leading, looking through the trees.

“Who’s out there?” he yelled into
the darkness.

“Dude, you are losing it.” Terry
spun, shotgun at the ready, to find Steve standing with his hands up. “Whoa,
whoa, just me, man.”

“There’s someone out here with
us.”

“What?”

“Come here,” Terry said, motioning
jerkily with his arm.

Steve stepped around the truck to
see the arrows. “Holy crap!”

“I know, right.”

“Where did they come from?”

“No idea. I was just sitting in
the truck and I heard them hit the tire.”

“Well, what now?” Steve asked.

“Now we walk.” Lightening suddenly
flashed, followed by a clap of thunder. Rain started to pour down in sheets.

“Well, hell.”

They collected what few things
they had and continued to follow the road. In the trees a dark figure followed.

They had walked a little less than
an hour in the pouring rain and raging storm. They were trudging ahead when
Steve looked up and tapped Terry on the shoulder. The man looked up to see a
lit sign that showed a grassy meadow with wildflowers. Behind the sign was a
long winding side road.

“Elysium Fields,” Steve read
aloud.

“That can’t be right,” Terry said.

“Why not?”

“In Greek mythology, that was the
afterlife.”

“Isn’t that also the name of a
resort?” Steve asked excitedly.

“I—don’t know.”

“It is,” Steve said, running down
the side road. “I know it is.”

“Wait up you idiot,” Terry cried,
running after him. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

As they disappeared down the road
a dark figure separated itself from the shadows and followed.

The two pudgy men didn’t get far
before both were stopped, bent over with their hands on their knees, sucking in
great gulping breaths of air.

“Are we—really, still this—outta
shape?” Steve asked between panting breaths.

“It is a—little—humiliating—isn’t
it?”

After they caught their breath
they continued on. They rounded a corner on the road and came face to face with
large iron gates. A sign on the gates read: Elysium Fields Asylum.

“Oh, that’s just great,” Terry
said angrily.

“You think they coulda mentioned
the asylum part on the sign.”

“Well, that was a waste of time.”

“Maybe not.”

Terry looked over at Steve
incredulously, then his eyes widened and he began to shake his head. “Oh, no!
No way!”

“But it’s pouring out here, we’re
soaked to the bone, and we have no vehicle.”

“I’m not spending the night in an
asylum
,
not even for a million dollars.”

“I’m pretty sure money is useless
this late into the apocalypse.” Terry started to say something, but Steve
quickly cut him off. “But I know what you mean. But still, probably not anyone
left alive inside of there anyway.”

“I would rather sleep in the
woods.”

“And die of hypothermia? Besides,
someone out there has a bow and homemade arrows. They probably have a banjo and
like to screw pudgy men that remind them of hogs. Didn’t you see Deliverance?”

Terry turned back to the dark road,
surrounded by the tall, imposing trees. Then he looked back to the asylum
gates. “Oh, alright! Let’s do this, if we’re going to.”

Steve walked up to the massive
gates and gave them a push, but they didn’t budge. “Guess we’ll have to climb.”

Steve grabbed onto the wrought
iron bars and pulled himself up. He braced his feet against the bars and in a
bizarre crabwalk started to climb. He got halfway up the bars before stopping
to rest, at which point he started to slide back down.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he said as
he squeakily slid all the way back down to the ground.

“You really are pathetic,” Terry
said in disgust.

“Well, I’d like to see you try.”

Terry spit in both his hands and
grabbed onto the bars. He pulled himself up and then squeezed the bars with his
feet. He started to shuffle his way up the gate. He got about halfway also,
when he, too, ran out of breath. As his grip loosened he slowly slid back down
to the ground as well.

“Well, hell,” Steve said. He
backed up and got a running start, jump-kicking the bars. He hit the gate,
bounced off, and fell to the ground. Terry started to laugh hysterically.

As the two men bumbled around the
gates, a dark figure ran through the trees, hit the stone wall surrounding the
asylum and ran straight up, reaching the top and flipping over. It landed
lightly on its feet and quickly pulled a release beside the gates.

Steve and Terry were standing nose
to nose in the pouring rain, arguing with each other, when the gates slowly
opened a crack, with a groaning of rusty hinges. Both men immediately went
silent, staring at the now unlocked gate. They looked at each other and then
slowly approached the gate.

Steve reached it first and grabbed
one side; he slowly pulled it open with little effort. Again they both looked
at each other. Steve shrugged, but Terry began to shake his head.

“No way,” Terry said. “That is
just too creepy. We already have to deal with zombies, I’m not gonna deal with
ghosts, too, man!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Steve
said. “Ghosts don’t exist.”

“And how do you know?”

“You ever see a ghost?”

“What if I had?”

Steve’s head snapped around and he
looked at Terry with a scared expression. “Have you?” he squeaked out.

“Well . . . no.”

Steve let out a relieved breath
and his shoulders sagged with relief. “Let’s just get this over with; I’m tired
of freezing my ass off in the rain, man.”

“Fine, fine.”

Steve pulled the gate open just
enough for them to get through and then began the long walk up the winding
driveway that led to the asylum.

After they were gone, the same
dark figure pulled the gate shut, and relocked it.

Steve and Terry followed the
winding path, surrounded by what, at one time, must have been expansive,
manicured lawns, but now resembled a wild prairie. They topped a hill and a
lightning flash lit up a massive building resembling an old castle or fortress
of some kind. It was huge and imposing, and if they admitted it to themselves,
just a tad bit, completely terrifying.

“Okay, no way,” Terry said,
turning around on the spot and starting to walk away.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Steve said,
chasing after him and stopping him. “We didn’t come all this way just to
chicken out now. Besides, I’m freezing and soaking wet. Let’s just go inside
and dry off and try to warm up.”

“Dude! I told you, I do not screw
with ghosts.”

“Why would there be ghosts in
there?”

“Uh, hello. It’s an insane asylum,
I have never heard of a single one that
wasn’t
haunted.”

“Oh, that’s just sensational
journalism,” Steve insisted. “I’m sure there are plenty that aren’t haunted.”

“You willing to bet your life on
it?”

“Puh-leeze. There is not a single
documented case of a ghost killing a human.”

“Oh, really? What about the exorcist?”
Terry asked.

“That was a demon.”

“Exorcism of Emily Rose?”