At that moment a shaft of sunlight cut through the overhanging cloud. It seemed to shine directly down on me, its rays dissipated by the leaves of the trees that lined the road.
I imagined that in
a
different time this must have been a good place to e
njoy a meal with someone you love
. I though
again
of Rosie and this tim
e there was no anger, just a brief and immense and
bottomless sadness.
It had been a while since I’d heard the Hummer and I knew I had to move. How long would it be before they swung back and decided to give this place a closer look?
I rolled onto my side and looked towards the storefront
s
.
The one directly opposite me had
a picture of a pizza and an Italian flag. Above the picture was
stenciled
, “Giuseppe’s Pizzeria”, and I remember wondering crazily why pizza places were always, “Luigi’s” or “Giuseppe’s”, as though only men with those names were entitled to operate one.
Then, in
the window, I saw the reflection of the Hummer, its ignition turned off, rolling slowly backwards. A moment later I heard the engine start up and the screech of tires as the vehicle did a u-turn and drove away.
I got slowly
on
to my
knees
and peered over the wooden partition. The road was clear and I was trying to decide
whether
it was safe to loop round and head back to the lot and have another try at starting the Dodge. But then I heard the roar of the Hummer engine again
and I figured that a safer option might be to lay low for a while
.
I crossed the couple of feet towards Giuseppe’s and entered quickly, crouching as I did
. Immediately
I became aware
of the stench
. The rank smell of vomit and sewage and gone-off meat that I’d come to call eau d’ Z.
The restaurant was
dark inside, but I could make out
a counter, two pizza oven
s and a few cubicles. Not
much place to hide but they were here alright, and by the stench, a lot of them.
I was about to back out when a movement startled me. My grip on the door slipped
, and
it
shut with an audible click.
Crouched in the patch of light at the front of the restaurant, I looked into the gloomy interior. In the dark back there I sensed movement and a door slowly started to creak open. I thought I could make out the reflection of an eye, then another and another, as though some giant spider nested there waiting to devour me.
Then came the growling, low pitched and hungry and the sound of claws scratching on tile.
I cradled the AK into my shoulder and curled my finger around the trigger. If they charged me in such a confined space I was done for. My best chance was to fire a pre-emptive blast into the darkness and then shoot out the plate
glass at the front
and make my escape that way.
Of
course, that would give away my position to the men in the Hummer.
I heard another low growl from the shadows and started to tighten my finger on the trigger when a dog trotted out from the darkness. He was a big guy, with a fox-like face and a brindle colored coat with a white patch on his chest. His tail curled tightly over his back.
The dog looked much the worst for wear with a matted coat and ribs clearly protruding from his flanks. He looked at me quizzically, his head tilted to one side. Then he sniffed the muzzle of the AK, following it along to sniff
my hand, my face, and finally ga
ve my ear a cursory lick. Then he lifted his leg and peed on my boots.
The dog suddenly became alert and I saw the hackles rise on his back. A low growl began to vibrate in his throat. I heard it
too then
, scratching from above.
I lifted my eyes slowly towards the ceiling where some of the panels had collapsed, exposing the floorboards from the apartment upstairs.
Thin slivers of light crept through between the boards and I could see something moving around up there. A slight shift attracted my attention and I saw a bloodshot eye peering through a knot-hole in the floorboard.
For a second I held its insane gaze and then I heard sniffing, like a dog scenting a trail and knew they had picked out the smell of my bloodied hand. I heard an angry snap, and what sounded like words spoken in some guttural tongue. Something collided hard with the floorboard and I heard it crack. Debris loosened from the damaged ceiling and crashed down into the restaurant.
All of this happened in a split second a
nd then I was heading
towards the back of the restaurant. I fig
ured there had to be a way out
into an alley or som
ething, and if I could use that I might be able to avoid
the Hummer crew.
Behind me I
hear
d another loud crack, and
the dog barking. I reached the back door and it was locked. The barking was more insistent now, and then it changed to high-pitched yelps.
I looked back to see the restaurant filling with dust. Then the first of the things dropped through the hole in the ceiling and landed in a crouch. I could see the dog cowering down and then the Zombie moved towards it with improbable speed.
I leveled to AK and fired, felt it kick, saw the Zombie go down. As I turned towards the door I fired two shots at the lock then applied my boot to it. It flew open and I slipped through, half turning as I did to see more of the things dropping into the restaurant.
Through the plate glass I saw the Hummer come skidding to a halt in the street outside. I could hear the dog alternately barking and yelping as I exited into a small yard protected by a high fence topped with razor wire. To one side there was a row of garbage cans, to the other, several gas cylinders, in between the two was a gate, secured with a chain and padlock.
I fired at the padlock on the run and saw it shatter. Then I was through the gate and in the alley. From the restaurant, I heard shots, and someone was screaming.
I turned to see the dog sprint through the gate and then several of the things pouring through the back door of the restaurant into the fenced yard.
I knelt in a firing position and got off a burst at the gas canisters. They exploded spewing flame and shrapnel and dest
roying everything in the yard. Two
Zombies
were
aflame and dancing like demonic shaman.
The dog came running towards me, passed me and just kept going.
I exited the alley at the next road, made a right and then another, bringing me back to about half
a block from Giuseppe’s. T
he Hummer
was
standing in the road
, its door thrown open, I could
hear shots
being
fired from the restaurant.
I headed in that direction, keeping close to the storefronts, then breaking cover and making a dash for the Hummer when I was close enough.
The vehicle was empty and idling. I jumped in
,
threw the shift into drive and put my foot on the accelerator. The car lurched forward,
its passenger door flapping, then
swinging shut.
In the rearview mirror I
saw
three men run into the street. The
y started firing and bullets bounced
off the rear window. Then suddenly the vehicle listed to one side and veered out of control. I turned hard on the wheel but it refused to obey. I felt the car become airborne and then spin slowly, as if in slow motion. It hit the ground hard and the last thing I remember was seeing sparks that reminded me of Stanley Tucci’s fireworks display.
I surfaced slowly, like a diver hoping to avoid the bends. I was lying on my back on a cold hard surface. Bright lights were shining into my face and I could make out four shapes hovering over me.
“Is it him?” one of the shapes said, a male voice.
“Could be,” another man replied, “hard to be sure.”
“So what if it is?” a third voice said. “I say we just feed him to the Zs”
“Seconded,” the first voice said, “payback for Clint.”
“Clint was an asshole,” voice three said.
“Still.”
“You chuckleheads want to shut the fuck up a second so I can figure this out?” a new voice said.
Then after a while he spoke again, “Right, here what we going to do. This ain’t the dude. I know it. Don’t ask me how I know
,
I just do. You fuck nuts wouldn’t understand, it’s called being in charge.”
“Sure looks like his picture, boss,” one of the others said.
“Yeah and I look like Elvis and I don’t see any of you bunching up your panties and throwing them at me.”
It was silent for a while and then the boss said, “Put him in with Clint.”
“Boss?”
“With Clint!” the boss shouted.
“Er, boss, I think he’s trying to say something”
The man leaned closer
to me and I could see his bald
head and thick, black-rimmed glasses. “Crackers, I said, “Ritz Crackers.”
Then I passed out.
When I came round again, I was in a cell, or more aptly a cage, like a police lockup with no walls, but bars on every side. I had a pounding headache and my midriff felt like I’d gone twelve rounds with a pretty good body puncher. There was also a dull throbbing pain in my palm and when I examined it, it was raw and slightly swollen.
I was curled up on a cot in the corner of the cell. I sat up slowly, squinting against the brightness. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed that there was another man in the cage. He was lying on the floor in a fetal position in a pool of his own vomit.
Next to him there was a tin plate, and in it, the remains of a meal, now congealing in
bluish
puke. The man was wearing a pair of camouflage combat pants, and a brown military t-shirt that had a ring of blackened blood around the collar. There was a circular wound in a bite pattern on his neck, but it seemed to be a bruise, rather than a bite wound.
Just then I heard voices and footsteps approaching so I lay back down and pretended to be asleep.
“Still out,” somebody said, and then I heard something raked across the bars and a voice shouting, “Wake up you lousy deadbeats!”
“Cut that shit out!” another voice, that sounded vaguely familiar, shouted, “Bring that chair here, yes that fucking chair put it here, right here I want to be the first to see this.”
“Holy crap, boss,” someone said, “That bite on Clint’s neck, it’s almost cleared right up.”