Z-Burbia 7: Sisters of the Apocalypse (3 page)

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Authors: Jake Bible

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Post-Apocalyptic

BOOK: Z-Burbia 7: Sisters of the Apocalypse
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The furniture is out of the way and I grab the door handle. Then stop. Noises. Groaning noises. Shuffling noises. Are there more Zs in the apartment? Did they trap these people in here and then stick around even after the people died? That's dick. Zs are dicks.

I pull the door open, take a look around, see what I'm up against, then close the door.

I pick up the dropped arm, kick the little girl in the face, she falls on her ass, I jam the bone into her brain, and that's that. I ain't got time to deal with sentimental bullshit like some little girl Z. It's sad and shit, but fuck her anyway. I have real problems.

Like about fifty Zs out in the apartment that now know I'm in this bedroom.

I throw the furniture back up against the door as the old wood starts to splinter and crack. It's not really wood, but that fake wood shit they made doors out of in cheap apartments. How many people got killed because of cheap assholes that couldn't be bothered to buy real doors? Fucking assholes. People suck. I hope those assholes got their dicks eaten off.

The roof above me splits even more and quite a few chunks of it come falling down around me. One chunk hits my shoulder and I cry out as some spike or something jabs itself into my arm. Great. Just great. I probably have the tetanus now and will get lockjaw. I won't get night vision because I already kind of have that from Kramer's genetic cocktails and shit. But lockjaw will suck. I hate drinking through straws.

I pull my shirt aside and look at the wound in my shoulder. It's a nasty gash. Deep and ragged. I take my shirt off and tear one of the sleeves into strips. I wrap the gash and stand there in my tank top, looking from the broken ceiling to the bedroom door and back.

Windows.

I move to them and try to open one. It's stuck tight. I break the fuck out of it then jam my head and shoulders through. No fire escape. Wrong side of the building. But lots of Zs in the street below. I flip them off then move back into the bedroom.

The door is giving way and I can see Z hands shoving at the furniture barricade. The Zs are all so thin and scrawny that it takes all fifty pushing at once to even move the furniture an inch. But the fuckers have all the time in the world. One inch will be two inches will be three inches and so on and so on and shit.

What to do, what to do…

I close my eyes and think for a second, visualizing where I am.

The roof above split open at the corner. I fell into a bedroom. A corner bedroom. Two walls face the street. One wall has a door with a bunch of Zs trying to get through. What's up with the fourth wall?

There's a heavy floor lamp in the corner, one of those brass and iron things with a base filled with sand or something. I pick it up and test the weight in my hands then swing hard against the fourth wall. It goes right through and plaster dust and mold yuck stuffs poof out around my head. I keep smashing until there is an Elsbeth-size hole. I almost throw the lamp away, but keep it because it's a heavy lamp made of iron and brass. Only stupid people throw away a heavy lamp made of iron and brass in the zombie apocalypse.

I get through the hole and stop fast. It's a bathroom. A bathroom with no floor. I look down and see all the way to the bottom of the building. By the smell and all the black mold stains still hanging out, it looks like the plumbing leaked and the floor just rotted out. Took the toilet with it.

I can see that all the apartments are the same in the building because it's nothing but broken bathrooms all the way down. Bathrooms with holes. I take a step and I'll go for a big fall.

The bathtub is across from me. Maybe four feet? Five feet? I say five feet. I can jump five feet. Shit, I can jump way more than five feet.

I throw the lamp into the tub and it clangs really, really loud. The moans outside the bedroom shift and Z hands start hitting the bathroom door. That's a door that doesn't have a furniture barricade. I don't have much time. I got to get into the tub and break through the next wall before they break in and get in my way.

I jump and land hard in the tub. The lamp jams me in the side and I cry out as I feel a rib bruise. I heal fast, it'll be nothing in a day or so, but bruised ribs suck and now I have one plus a gashy arm. It's a shitty morning so far.

The bathroom door cracks open and like six Zs go falling through the hole in the floor as their buddies shove them from behind. I'm out of reach in the tub, so I do what feels natural. I raise both hands and flip them off. Then I pick up the lamp and get ready to swing at the wall and get through to the next room.

Before I can swing, the tub starts to tilt. I look down and see some of the Zs clinging to the edge, trying to pull up and get at my sweet ass. I slam the base of the lamp into their faces and they go tumbling away. Bye bye, Zs. Dumb fuckers.

I get back to work, start to swing, but stop again as the tub tilts more. There is a really loud groan and it's not from the Zs. The tub lurches, shakes, lurches again.

Then breaks off from the wall and falls. With me in it.

Shitfuck.

 

Chapter Three

 

I scream. Anyone would scream when they are standing in a falling bathtub that is slamming through rotten apartments all the way to a very dark basement. A very dark basement that has quite a few Zs in it. I know they're there because I watched them fall through the bathroom hole.

Can't worry about them now. I gotta worry about me.

I collapse into the tub as it hits the next floor. It almost flips, but bangs against the far wall and stays upright with me in it. I hit another floor and another floor, tearing through the wood studs like they are paper. Which they kind of are. I don't know science like Charlie does, but I know that if wood gets really wet then gets really dry, it's gonna turn into shit. This whole building is shit.

The tub smacks through two more floors then hits the basement floor. Which is concrete. That shit hurts. Really hurts.

I gasp and gasp as my lungs fight for air. All the wind got knocked out of me when the tub hit. I don't know where the wind goes, but it sure as fuck doesn't stay in my chest. Fuck. I finally get some breath in, but it tastes like Z and dusty rot. I choke and cough then push myself up and look around.

Yeah, it's a really dark basement. I can only see for a couple of feet around me. There are some Zs, but they are all broken. My bathtub crushed a few. Good for the bathtub. I hear the sound of shuffling feet and know right away that Zs are already down here. Some assholes didn't get crushed by my bathtub and didn't fall five stories and break all apart.

They are whole and they are hungry and here they come!

I jump from the bathtub, my heavy lamp in hand and brace myself.

"Come on, you fuckers," I snarl. "You want a piece of Elsbeth? You want some El hell? Just keep coming and I'll give it to you."

They come at me and I get my lamp ready. Gonna smash some Z skulls with this beauty. Gonna smash, smash, smash… Uh…

They aren't coming at me anymore.

Then I hear it. Chains. The Zs have chains on them. Why the shitfucking hell would Zs have chains on them? That ain't right.

I step from the bathtub and move a little closer. Good thing, because a whole shit ton of Zs come falling down the bathroom hole and slam into my tub. Z guts and parts explode all over the place and I duck to avoid most of it. Not all of it, but most. I still get some Z guts all over my ass and back of my legs. Asshole Z guts.

I crush a few skulls and turn back to the chained Zs. The closer I get, the weirder shit gets. There's like a couple dozen Zs all chained together in front of one badass looking door. All iron and shit with some heavy-duty bracing. It's like something Long Pork would design if he wanted to make sure Zs couldn't get in a room.

I search for a way past the Zs, but that ain't happening. They close ranks and come at me, only the chains keeping them from getting my ass.

More Zs fall from above then more. It's starting to get crowded in the stinky basement. I do my crush, crush, smash thing and sit down for a breather. Don't know where my sisters are right now. Probably searching for me. If they came in through the fire escape then they are totally on the wrong side of the building.

I watch as more and more Zs crash into my tub, making it a soft landing for the ones that follow. A few don't even break when they hit.

"Fucking Zs," I say and get up, ready to get back to killing Zs. I get so sick of killing Zs. I love it too. I don't know. I love it, I hate it, whatever.

There's a quiet sliding noise behind me and a voice says, "Pssst. Lady. You bit?"

I turn to the iron door and squint. Can't see shit in this stupid, dark basement.

"I ain't bit," I call back. "Are you?"

"What? No," the voice says. It's a woman. Can't tell how old. "Stand over there by that barrel. I'll let you in before more of the undead fall down at ya."

"Thanks," I say and look for a barrel. There's no fucking barrel. "There's no fucking barrel."

"Oh, right, sorry," the woman says. "Hold tight."

I hear the chains start moving then the Zs are pulled all the way back to the wall where the door's at. They are yanked tight to the old brick, leaving a path for me to get to the door.

"Sure you aren't bit?" the woman asks again.

I can make out a spot in the door where some hatch thing has been opened. Two bright eyes are staring out at me.

"I told ya, I ain't bit," I snap. "You gonna let me in or what?"

"You aren't going to hurt me, are ya?" she asks.

"Hurt you? Why the fuck would I hurt you?" I growl. "If I wanted to hurt you, I'd pull my knife from my belt and toss it through that little hole. I'm that good, lady. I'd pop your eye before you could blink."

She don't say nothing back for a while.

"That, uh, doesn't make me feel safer," the woman finally says. Finally.

More Zs hit my bathtub, so I spin about and knock some heads loose. When I'm done, I turn back to the door and it's open. A small woman, older than me, but not like old old, is standing there, her mouth hanging as open as the damn iron door.

"You're pretty good with that lamp," she says.

"I'm fucking great with this lamp," I say. "You should see me with my blades."

"You got blades?" she asks. I point up. "Oh."

Half the horde from above comes tumbling down the hole and she squeaks like a little mouse.

"Get in, get in," she hisses.

I shrug and get in. Might as well. She may be a canny or she may be crazy, but I've been both, so who gives a shit, right? Right.

She slams the door behind me and locks it with like a hundred locks and a dozen fucking crossbars. Then she shoves six bracing bars against the door and wipes her brow.

"Hard work," she says and scoots past me. "Come on. I was making lunch."

She smacks a lever thing as she walks by and I hear chains start rattling outside.

"You keep those guys there to scare off Zs or people?" I ask as I follow her down a gloomy ass hallway to a small room with a comfy chair and a big desk.

"Both," she says. "Haven't had one person or undead get inside here since it all started. Some tried, but none made it."

"You been in here since Z-Day?" I ask.

"That what they call it? Yeah, I guess I have," she nods and goes to the desk where there's a little camp stove and some cans of food. "You like lima beans? I got lima beans."

"I like whatever ain't gonna poison me or make me have to shit all day long," I reply.

She laughs. "Same here," she says and puts a pot on the stove then starts opening one of the cans.

The smell smacks me in the face and I wave my hand in front of my nose.

"Bad beans," I say. "Toss those, open another can."

"Oh, they's fine," she says. "May taste a bit strong, but won't kill ya."

"Yeah, they will," I say as I go and grab the can from her. I give it a close up sniff and almost lose my cookies. Not that I have cookies. I got puke. Not a lot, but enough to make a mess if I sniff those fucking beans again. "Way gone. Open the other can."

The woman watches me for a bit, takes the can back, sets it down on the desk, and opens the other can. It's just as bad. Maybe worse. Here come the cookies.

"Jesus shitfucking Christ," I say. "Where's your trash? Get rid of this shit now. I'm gonna hurl bad."

I go to grab the can, but she jerks away from me, clutching the stinky thing to her tits like it's a damn kitten. A stinky, nasty kitten you don't want to be eating.

"These beans are fine," the woman snaps. "I been eating them for days now. Still standing. Not dead."

"You will be," I say. "You can't figure that out? That's bad beans. Really bad beans."

"Lima beans got a smell to them," the woman says. "You get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it," I say. "I don't want nothing to do with those beans. You wanna eat them then eat them. I'll pass, lady."

"Inez," the woman says.

"You nez what?" I ask. "What does that mean?"

"That's my name," the woman says. "Inez. My name."

"Oh," I reply. "I'm Elsbeth."

"Elsbeth," she says it a couple more times and nods at me. "Elsbeth."

"Yep, that's what I said," I say and give her a smile. I look around. "Only the one door?"

"There's another," Inez answers. That's all she says.

Jesus...

"Can I use it?" I ask. "I appreciate you wanting to feed me and all, but I got to go find my sisters."

"Sisters?" she asks. She forgets about the beans and almost lets them fall, but sets the second can down with the first. "You have family with you? Family that has supplies and stuff?"

"I have my sisters, yeah," I say. "We slept on the roof then I fell and now I'm here. I gotta find them so we can keep doing what we're doing."

"What are you doing?" she asks. "Maybe I can help. I know this town. Know every inch of it. If you're looking for something, I bet I know where it is."

She starts looking around the room and I see her eyes get all wide and shit. She looks back at me and her smile gets as wide as her eyes.

"Take me with you," she says. "Please."

"Listen, you've been nice and all, but we aren't taking on any new folks," I say.

I try to sound all casual, but I don't think it works because she starts tearing up and then the tears start falling and then she starts crying full on and then...

"Shit," I say as she falls to her knees and curls up in a fucking ball. She's crying hard. Baby in a ball crying. "Shit. Lady? Inez? Listen, it ain't up to me, see? We sisters, we make decisions together. I can't just tell them you're coming with us. Anyway, we ain't planning on going home for a while. We've got a mission."

She wails like I just kicked her or something. I didn't kick her. Just so you know. I didn't touch her at all. Not even a nudge with my boot. Fuck, she's got some lungs on her.

"Inez? You gotta stop," I say as she gets louder. I ain't sure, but I think I hear the Zs outside her door start to get riled up. "You're making the Zs freak out. Inez? Inez! INEZ!"

I pick her up off the floor, she weighs nothing, and shake her. Hard.

"You gotta shut the fuck up, you hear me?" I shout. "There's a lot of Zs out in that basement and they're gonna want in here if you keep crying like a shitfucking baby! So stop crying like a shitfucking baby!"

"Take me with you!" she screams at me.

I'm holding her like two feet from the floor and she's doing nothing except blubbering and snotting everywhere. I could so snap her fucking neck and just be done with her. But that ain't me. Not gonna snap her neck. Don't snap her neck. Snapping her neck is bad.

"Where's the other way out?" I ask as Zs begin to scrape and claw at the door.

Her crying brought them all to it and I can hear the steel groaning almost as loud as the Zs. It's locked, and barred, and braced, so it should hold, but…

"Inez, where's the other way out?" I ask again. "Just tell me where it is and I'll be gone and out of your hair forever, okay?"

She grabs my shirt and pulls her face up close to mine. She ain't exactly got the best teeth. Bad teeth equals bad breath and, shit, here come my cookies again.

"I ain't telling you where the other way out is," she says as I drop her and keep from puking. "Take me with you and I'll tell. Only way you're getting out of here is with me."

"Why do you want to leave?" I ask. I scan the place for a sign of a door or something. "It's a pretty nice place, ya got here. Look at that comfy chair. Can't bring that comfy chair with you."

"Fuck that comfy chair!" she screeches. "I ain't been with folks in years! I been alone! All alone! I don't want to be alone no more! I don't wanna be alone!"

"Okay, okay, you don't wanna be alone," I say. "I get that. I do. But, dammit, I can bring you with me, but like I fucking said, we ain't going home. We're on a mission and shit gets dangerous when sisters are on a mission. You'll probably just get killed. I can bet right now you'll get killed because you ain't a sister."

"I could be," she says. "I could be a sister. What's it take to be one? You got a code or some ritual I gotta do?"

"What? No. There ain't no stupid ritual," I say. "Why the hell would there be a ritual?"

"Because that's how sororities work," she says. "I was in one in college. I can be your pledge and then, when you know I'm worth it, you can make me a full sister."

"Sorority? Jesus," I sigh. It's a long sigh because now I know for sure this chick is crazy as batshit. "We ain't a sorority. We ain't got a ritual or nothing like that. We're sisters in a different way and you can't be one of us because there ain't no more of us left. It ain't something you'd understand."

"I could," she says. "I could understand. Take me with you and I promise to understand."

I pull a knife, flip it about my hand then throw it against the wall, nailing some crawly bug right in the back.

"Can you do that?" I ask. "Can you do that to a Z while also hacking another one to death with your other hand? Can you knife a Z, hack a Z, and kick two more dead with your boots? You know how to shoot? You know how to rappel or fly a helicopter? You ever killed a hundred Zs on your own?"

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