Zombies! (Episode 5): Sinners and Saints (11 page)

There was a fight going on just then and Marcus shook his head as he watched. There was a guy in a black martial arts outfit in the ring with six zombies. Marcus loved the stupid ones. Six zombies was a lot for anyone. As he watched, he knew exactly what was going to happen. The guy could fight; there was no doubt about it. Whatever style of martial arts he was using, he was an expert. He expertly placed kicks and punches and twisted the zombies over and around, depositing them on their asses. But they didn’t care. They didn’t feel pain and they just kept getting up. Weapons were forbidden in the ring and without one, you had to grab your target by the head and bash it into the gate or into the turnbuckle. Otherwise, you were eventually going to wear yourself out. They kept getting these fancy fighters who thought that the techniques they used in tournaments or even on the street would work against the zombies.

Toby’d been smart, too. Recognizing the limits of their stock, he’d sent in this giant of a zombie with one arm. The martial arts guy was having a lot of trouble with him. He could have probably dispatched him very easily if he was alive but when what you’re fighting is just dead weight, it’s like fighting the heavy bag. The very heavy bag. And, though you might get in some good licks, the heavy bag always stands its ground and you’re the one who walks away.

Eventually, inevitably, there was a mistake. For just a moment, the fighter became sloppy and a zombie got underneath him. Even from up by his office, he could see the thing nick the guy’s ankle with its teeth. The sloppy moment ended and the guy pulled his foot away before there could be any real damage but it didn’t matter. He was finished. At least he’d look good fighting in the ring next week.

Marcus’ phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was Toby. “Yeah?”

“Three of the guys from the hunt are here. They brought two zombies with them.”

“Really?” Marcus asked, surprised. “I though Leron called it off.”

“Ain’t no Leron,” Toby said. “He disappeared again.”

That was bad news and it made Marcus nervous. “Okay. I’ll meet the hunters around back. Send PJ and Vito around to meet me.” Then he changed the subject. “Are you watching this fight?”

“Of course.”

“Did you see him get bitten?”

“On the foot, yeah.”

“Get him out of there quick and get yourself some backup. He may not be able to handle six zombies but he will definitely kick your ass.”

Toby didn’t like to hear that, but he didn’t argue.

“Then get some help and search around for Leron.” Without waiting for an answer, Marcus put his phone away, hit the stairs, and went for the back entrance. It was cold and dark outside and he hated checking in new zombies. When he reached the pen, he was surprised to see Luthor and Worm, but no Lodi. They had two zombies with them, as Toby had said. The first was a kid, no older than twelve. He looked pretty unblemished and he kicked like a mule. He was a good catch. The other was an older guy, probably somewhere in his fifties. He was in pretty good shape. A leftover hippy from the sixties or seventies, he wore his white hair in a long pony tail. A lot of the strands had come out, but the rubber band had held. There was a vicious tear in the leg of his jeans and the whole thing was stained dark brown.

Then another figure detached itself from the group. He was cold and he was angry. It was Shawn.

“It’s just us,” Luthor said noticing the look on Marcus’ face. He jerked a finger at Shawn. “He said Lodi got eaten and Everett took off. We never saw the other two. But Worm and me caught these two zombies on our own.”

“I don’t want your money,” Shawn hissed, his eyes never leaving Marcus.

And Marcus’ eyes never left Shawn. “Vito, pen these zombies up and pay Luthor and Worm, please.”

Vito, a tall and wiry guy with slick dark hair and glasses, pulled the zombies away from the hunters and marched them toward the pen. Luthor and Worm followed leaving Marcus and Shawn to stand together in the cold. They stared at each other, eyes alight, smoke pluming from their nostrils. Each grew ever more furious by the moment.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Marcus asked in a hoarse whisper.

At the moment, Shawn had nothing to say. When they’d parted that morning, one of the most pervasive thoughts on his mind had been how he could explain what he wanted to do. How would he make Marcus understand that he needed to face up to the fear and revulsion? But now it was Marcus who had to explain. When Lodi had told him who was responsible for the hunt, Shawn hadn’t really believed him. Not really. But there was
someone
responsible and he was determined to make that someone pay. He’d left
Angus
with murderous thoughts on his mind. It was just blind luck that he’d stumbled upon Luthor and Worm. Though clearly worried about having to split the money with him, they hadn’t said anything about him tagging along to the fights.

“You shouldn’t have been there,” Marcus said. “I told you to stay out of it.”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Shawn answered, his voice surprisingly even.

“What?”

“I don’t have to answer to you. I’m not your bitch.” He used Lodi’s word, the word that had set him off.

Marcus softened, moved toward him. “Shawn…”

But Shawn took a step back. “Don’t touch me. Do you have any idea what you’re doing? There’s a plague out there and after what I’ve seen tonight, I can tell you that we are losing to it. Civilization is hanging over the edge and you’re out here making money off of it.”

Marcus shook his head. It was as he expected. Shawn’s trauma and fear had consumed him. He was just sitting on a tree stump, waiting for the apocalypse. “The world is not coming to an end, Shawn.”

“There were dozens of them, Marcus. Enough to fill your fights for weeks.” He saw the sparkle in Marcus’ eyes and it made him sick. “So all you care about is the money? Forget about the people and world?”

“You’re overreacting. We’re not making zombies and we’re not sending infected people back onto the streets. And, yes, we’re making lots and lots of money.”

“You have to shut it down,” Shawn said. “You can’t do this. I can’t live with this…”

Marcus shook his head, looked away. “Shawn, it’s not your decision. I’m not shutting it down.” He was ashamed of the way Shawn was making him feel.

“It
is
my decision, Marcus.”

When Marcus looked up, Shawn was pointing a gun at him. It was Lodi’s gun. Strangely enough, he wasn’t afraid. “And if you shoot me, Shawn? Do you think this will stop?”

Shawn shook his head. “You’ll stop,” he said quietly. “Then I can love you again.”

Marcus laughed out loud. “You think you’ll be able to love me again? Will you just pretend you never saw this?”

“Please, Marcus. I…you…”

Marcus leaned in. “I did this for us, Shawn. Do you have any idea how much money I’m making? Forget about pissing off your dad.
I
can send you to college.”

Shawn didn’t care about the money. He only cared about Marcus. Throughout everything, Marcus had been constant in his life. He’d loved him the same even when his parents had doubted him. After everything the zombies had taken from Shawn, he had clung to knowledge that Marcus was good and their relationship pure. But now the zombies had robbed him of Marcus as well. They’d taken him as surely as if he had gotten the infection and turned. He was not the man Shawn had thought he was. He was just this disgusting, profiteering bastard.

And now what was left of Shawn Rudd. He was without confidence and without friends. He was without love and without a will of his own. Perhaps
murderer
was the identity that suited him best. Perhaps his mother was right. So he fired the gun, his arms kicking upward and the bullet sailing well to the left and over Marcus’ head.

Marcus was surprised, but recovered quickly. He rushed Shawn and grabbed him around the waist and by the wrist. The two tumbled into the dirt. Screaming, Shawn tried to bring his gun hand forward, but Marcus bent it backwards, banging it against the ground. Marcus was stronger, but not by much. They grappled there, neither gaining any ground. Throughout the struggle, Shawn was shouting,
I’ll kill you
over and over again. Finally, Marcus managed to make him drop the gun. It cracked against a rock and skidded away from them.

“Please,” Marcus was saying. “Please, Shawn.” He shifted his balance to the balls of his feet and managed to lift Shawn upward and into his arms. For a moment, the boy relaxed and Marcus thought he was going to return the embrace. But it was a ploy. Loosening his muscles, Shawn was able to gain some wiggle room. He shoved Marcus away and sprang to his feet. Marcus tried to approach but Shawn feinted and punched him in the stomach. Infuriated, Marcus shoved ducked the next strike and landed a solid blow to Shawn’s face. The boy reeled and Marcus hit him again.

“You’ll listen to me!” Marcus shouted. “You dumb ass kid, you’d better listen!”

Shawn made a show of being hurt, then wheeled and caught Marcus under the jaw with his fist. Stumbling back, Marcus tripped and fell backward to the ground. Instead of continuing the fight, Shawn went for the gun. He was in a frenzy now. He grabbed up the weapon and pulled it forward. Growling like an animal, Marcus spun around and drew his own gun. At that moment, everything froze. There was no more façade between them. They were two men pointing guns at each other and they were each well aware that neither of them was bluffing.

“I love you, Shawn,” Marcus said, though his tone had a hard edge to it. “Put the gun down. We’ll work it out.”

For a moment, Shawn’s eyes glazed over, as if he was going to cry. Then they cleared again. “You’re right, I can’t love you. Not after this. Now that I know what you are…God, I was so stupid.”

Marcus breathed. “Let’s go home, Shawn. Let’s go home and we can work this out.”

Now Shawn laughed. “Yes. Let’s work it out. It’ll be okay and we can go back to playing your X-Box and eating Chinese food.” He fired the gun again. This shot was better placed, Shawn having learned from his first attempt. The bullet grazed Marcus’s shoulder.

“
Son of a bitch!
” Marcus cried out and fired his own gun. Unfortunately for Shawn, he was a much better shot.

***

At about 11:36 pm, Culph had been in the bar for an hour and a half. He was halfway through is first beer, not in any mood to get drunk, and staring at his cell phone. The phone sat on the bar, inches from a puddle of condensation. He'd placed it there when he'd come in, knowing he wanted to make the call but afraid to all the same. There was a woman at the bar and she'd been looking at him, but he was afraid to talk to her. Nowadays, he was afraid of a lot of things. Oddly enough, zombies were pretty low on the list. That very morning, he'd gone head first into a den full of the things and had barely felt anything akin to fear. At least not of the zombies. They were nothing to him. They were slow and weak and smelly and ugly. Putting them down was easy, because they weren't even people anymore. And that was the first thing that scared him. He didn't see people when he saw the zombies. He saw monsters. Sure enough, there was nothing left of the people they had once been. It didn't matter what those
Zombie Rights
nuts preached. Zombies were dangerous. They were plague rats. But they
had
been people. At some point, they'd been living, breathing people. They were fathers and mothers and sons and daughters and brothers and sisters. They were loved by other people or completely unloved, hermits living in their parents' basements. Either way they'd each been a unique individual.

He'd forgotten that this morning. He'd forgotten it while firing at the throng rushing down the corridor at him. He'd forgotten that while shooting and beating the woman who'd been in the room with the children. He'd forgotten that while fighting off the children themselves. And he'd especially forgotten it when he'd shot the poor boy who hadn't even died yet.

Drinking down half of what was left of his beer, Culph slammed the stein down on the bar and grabbed his phone. Before he could think about what he was doing, he scrolled through his contacts and pushed the
connect
button.

After two rings, she picked up, but she didn't say anything.

"Rose?" he asked.

Still silence.

"Rose, please," he said into the phone and actually felt his eyes water up.

"Were you there?" she asked him.

"What? Where?"

"At that church this morning. In Queens?"

"Yeah," he whispered, shuddering. "I was there."