Just Another Day Page 3

  The first surprise was that a car had driven into the front of the building where I live, blocking the door to my stairwell, had somehow started on fire, and had started the building on fire, too. That meant that I would have to go to the alley behind the building, climb up to the roof, run to my apartment and break in, gather up all my weapons and ammo, and get the fuck out before the whole place went up in flames. Because judging by the City of La Salle fire truck that was on its side a block and a half down, there wouldn’t be any fire service any time soon.

  The second surprise was that the fuckin’ truck that had essentially killed Jamie had driven through the little lot where my car was parked, and had smashed into the group of trees at the front of it. That’s no real surprise there, but what the surprise was, was that the fuckin’ assholes that were in the truck were still alive and were trying to break the windows to get out of it, as the body had crumpled on impact, sealing the doors. I had that happen once on an old truck of mine, after I had t-boned someone a few years back.

  I saw red. I was a giant. I was a vengeful god. I was the destroyer of worlds. I made a bee-line for that fucking truck, dodging a few zombies on the way. When I got there, the driver had just broken his window and was in the process of climbing out. I yanked his ass out by the collar of his shirt and threw him to the fucking ground, where I beat his head to a bloody pulp with my bat, then did it some more. When I was done there wasn’t anything left, just blood and chunks from the neck up.

  I had just finished taking a piss on the drivers’ body and was in the process of dragging out the passenger, who had passed out like a bitch from a wittle boo-boo on his heady-weady, when some spill-off from the massive horde (that had dispersed to pretty much everywhere) had almost reached me. I figured the smartest thing for me to do would be to exit, stage left and shit, before I became either a meal or just another zombie fuck. So I let the asshole drop to the ground where he lay in a heap and ran for the trail that goes to the alley behind my building. I stopped just long enough so I could appreciate the wonderful show the zombies were giving me as they ripped the passengers guts out and tore him limb from limb. Dude didn’t even wake up, though. I was kind of bummed, I wanted to hear him screaming for mercy that he didn’t deserve.

  Thankfully, the alley was clear where I needed it to be, although there were a few zombies hanging around down towards the end of it. I never had to climb up to my apartment from the back before, since cars don’t usually get parked in the front door, but it looked like it would be an easy enough task. Certainly one that I could handle.

  The roof of the bar at the back end was only about ten feet high or so, so I ran to the bars dumpster, closed the lid and hopped up on it. Once there, I tossed up my trusty skull-crusher, and as gently as I possibly could, the beer, to the roof. There was an old satellite dish mount still bolted to the side of the building, just below the edge of the roof, and I jumped and used that to pull myself up with. Just like doing pull-ups and leg-raises, simultaneously. No sweat.

  Now that I was on the roof, I took a beer out of the pack and figured I had the time to enjoy it. Had myself a little time to breathe without zombies. And drink. Sure, the building was on fire, but I figured the insurance office and the bar I lived above would burn for a while before it reached my apartment. Also, I figured that it wouldn’t take me too long to do what I had to do; I’d be in and out, lickity-split.

  After I finished my second beer (hey, I was thirsty, and by now getting buzzed), I walked over to the door to the hallway that separated my apartment from Linn’s. I knew it would be locked, since the doorknob had been broken for over a year, and figured I’d have to put the boots to it to get in.

  I had just brought my leg up to strike a frame-shattering blow, when I heard a rustling and scraping noise from the other side, like someone was walking and dragging themselves along a wall. I didn’t like the sound of that at all, especially with the way the world was at the moment. None of the scenarios I had in mind were good: the first was that Linn and her kid, Ben, were zombies and walking up and down the short hallway. The second scenario was that somehow a zombie or zombies had got into the stairwell, up the stairs, and was now pacing back and forth, waiting for some stimulus. And not the economic kind, either.

  “Holyshityou’reback!!!,” Linn yelled through her window, nearly stopping my heart. I was so focused on the door, that I had momentarily forgotten about her ass being there (brain fart). Which is odd, as I am an ass-man, and her ass is booty-full as fuck – for a white girl, that is.

  “AAAAHH!!! Jesus fucking Christ, Linn!!! What the fuck are you trying to do, gimme a fucking heart attack!!! Shit!” I yelled back at her. “Are you guys okay in there? There’s some really fucked up shit going on out here, Linn, some really bad shit! This town is fuckin’ infested with zombies, it’s fuckin’ insane!”

  Linn was real quiet for a minute, and then with great reluctance and pain she said, “Yeah, … I know what’s happening, Dave. Ben… Ben got curious and went outside to see what was happening right after you left. There was a couple of guys eating something by the door and he wanted to see what it was. We didn’t know it was zombies yet, you see? We didn’t know, so I let him go. Goddamn it!!! When he opened the door, just a crack, one of the guys forced his way in and attacked Ben. He bit him on his fucking face, Dave! Killed my son right in front of me… I ran back up the stairs and locked myself back in here. …I know Ben is a zombie now, I can hear them both moving around in the hall.”

  “Um… I’m so sorry, Linn. Really. That’s horrible… I don’t know what to say. I know that right now things can’t possibly be worse for you, but I have some more bad news for you, Linn.”

  “Oh god, what, Dave?! How the fuck can it get any fucking worse?!!! My son is dead and there are zombies killing everyone!!! How the fuck can it get any worse than that?”

  “The building is on fire. We have to move. Soon.”

  “What? Are you serious…? Of course you are… why would you joke about something like that? What… what am I supposed to do, Dave?”

  “Well, there’s a car in the door downstairs, an-”

  “What?!”

  “Yeah, a car crashed into the door and we can’t get out that way. Not gonna happen. So we gotta leave this place the same way I came up, from back there (pointing over my shoulder towards the roof’s edge). We have to climb down and make a run for it to… well, to somewhere, I dunno. Now, since you are not going to come out here through the hall, I want you to grab a kitchen chair, if ya got one in there, and throw it through this window, the big one, and climb out here. Before you do that, I want you to grab anything you think you might need, not a lot, though, just enough that’ll fit in a backpack. Medical supplies if ya got ‘em, food, bottled water if ya got it, maybe a couple changes of clothes. Only shit you absolutely need, though, okay? ‘Cause we’re gonna be moving fast at times, and don’t need to be carryin’ a lot of fuckin’ useless shit that’ll slow us down. Understand?”

  “Yeah, yeah, Dave, I do. Okay. I’ll… I’ll get to it, be back in a minute.”

  “Okay. I’m gonna go to my apartment and do the same, so if you finish before me, just break the window like I said and come out here and wait, and I shouldn’t be too long behind you. I have to get my guns and ammo packed up, so it might take a little bit more time. Remember, though, we both have to fucking hurry because the building is on fire. So, let’s get to it. See ya in a couple.”

  7

  Linn turned and went to gather up her supplies, and I jogged over to my apartment’s windows and jimmied up the screen on the far right, which was open a little. I hadn’t had it fully closed in over a year, due to me always locking my keys inside - there was always a gap at the bottom just big enough to get your fingertips into. Once inside, I ran to the front windows to see if the fire was an immediate threat. I had to hang myself out the window to see down to the storefronts. It looked like the fire had reached the insides of both the bar and insurance c
ompany, but it didn’t look particularly bad yet, as there were no flames pouring out of the windows. Even so, I figured I’d better get a move on.

  I ran down the hall to the closet at the end and yanked out one of my hiking packs, and hopped over into my bedroom where everything that I needed was at. By everything, I mean my guns and ammunition. I have a DPMS AR-15, a Remington 870 12 gauge shotgun, a Taurus .40 caliber handgun, and a sweet little Marlin .22 caliber rifle, which was gonna be my main weapon, since it was the one that I was most proficient with (thanks to lots and lots of drinkin’ and plinkin’). Boo-yah!!!

  I tossed a couple pairs of socks, drawers, and pants each into the bag, as well as a handful of t-shirts. I then loaded and chambered rounds in all my weapons, and put most of the ammo in the bag on top of the clothes, leaving out extra mags for the AR and the .40, and the brick of .22 rounds. My dad, in his E.O.T.W.A.W.K.I. kick, had bought me an L.B.V. (load-bearing vest) that had ammo pouches up the ass on it, and a holster for a side-arm, as well. I ran and got that, as well as some bungee cords that were sitting in the window sill that I had climbed in through, and then ran back to my bedroom. Once there, I sealed up the pack, and bungee-corded the AR and 12 gauge to it, since I had too many weapons and not enough hands.

  I then filled the pouches on the L.B.V. with the extra mags and .22 rounds, a flashlight (that I really didn’t want to use, since it would only draw unwanted attention at night), put the .40 in its holster, and threw that sucker on. Once I had it where it was comfortable, I put on the pack, made sure that was comfy as well, and made my way back to the roof. I didn’t have any food in my house that I could put in my pack without using a cupboard of Tupperware, and didn’t have anything to drink, either, so I didn’t waste any time on that shit. I figured that I’ d just eat and drink as I moved. Plus, I still had backpack full of beer to knock out.

  When I had just got to the window and was about to crawl through, I heard glass breaking in the direction of Linn’s place and figured that she had just finished getting her shit ready and was heading for the roof, too.

  Linn was sitting on a lawn chair, waiting for me with a hip-looking backpack. I assumed that it was her kids, but didn’t want to ask. She had a blank look on her face, much like the ones the zombies had on their faces. Again, I didn’t know what to say to her, so I figured I’d stick to talking about things related to our survival only, at least until she came to terms with her loss. If she ever did.

  “Linn, do you know how to handle a weapon?” I asked her.

  “……my ex-husband had a rifle that I used to shoot. I was pretty good at it, but that was a long time ago……,” she replied, sullenly.

  At that, I took my pack off and began to remove the shotgun. “Check it out, I’m gonna give you this to use. It’s a whole lot easier than a rifle to use, and all you gotta do is point it towards the zombies’ heads and pull the trigger. The spray’ll get ‘em as long as your general aim is good enough. Plus, if ya have to - like if you get surrounded or something and need to move quick - it’ll cut their legs right in half, so just aim for their knees or shins. Now, there is a little bit of a kick, so you gotta make sure you have a firm grip on it with both hands, or else you might lose your grip and get smacked in the face with it. My brother did that when we were kids and broke his nose. It was funny then, but it wouldn’t be at all now. Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay. Dave, do you think we’re going to be okay? Do you think we’re going to stay alive, in all this shit?”

  “That’s a very good question, Linn,” I said to her as I was filling up a couple more pouches on my L.B.V. with shotgun shells for her. “I don’t really know, to tell ya the truth. All I do know, is that I’ve made it this far without getting eaten, and plan on making it even further. I am not going to get ate if I can do anything about it, and with these (gesturing towards my weapons) and with this (gesturing towards my head), I’m gonna make sure that doesn’t happen. The same goes for you. Don’t get me wrong, though, we could both get killed right now, or as soon as we get off this roof, there’s no telling. I’m just trying to be a little optimistic, here.”

  With my little speech said, I turned to my pack and secured my AR to the center of it with the bungee cords, to ensure proper balance. After it was secured tightly, I put the pack back on, picked up my .22, and told her to wait where she was at, ‘cause I wanted to make sure the alley was clear before we tried getting down. Since I didn’t want any of the dead fucks on the ground to look up and see me, then moan for more of their cohorts (the movies got that part right, although it’s not “Hey, look what I see” moans, but just hunger or need moans, I am assuming), I low-crawled to the edge of the roof, to keep a low silhouette.

  Once at the edge, I saw that there were five of the motherfucker’s that were too close for comfort, one of them standing right in front of the dumpster. That made it shootin’ time! Luckily, none of them had any idea we were up on the roof, which made what I had to do a whole lot easier. Another little bit of luck was that the .22’s report wasn’t very loud at all, so the sound wouldn’t carry too far and be heard by too many more zombies than the ones I was aiming at.

  I shot the ones that were the furthest away first, because I figured if I shot the zombie in front of the dumpster first, the ones down the alley would’ve seen and started moaning, making a simple task extremely difficult with the number of zombies that would’ve been drawn in. It was pretty cool, even though the zombies nearest me heard the shots go off as I killed my way towards them, they never once looked up or moaned or anything. They didn’t really do anything, just continued on doing whatever it is that zombies do when they’re not eating people - you know, thinking about the weather and shit. It was pretty sweet.

  I shot eight total, which took me about fifteen minutes. It took so long, because I spaced my shots out just in case some of the zombies did notice what was happening and got curious. I figured, with such a long time in between shots, they’d lose interest and continue on. Just as long as they didn’t see me, which they couldn’t have, since I scootched back outta sight after each shot.

  After the last zombie was down, I waited another five minutes or so before I called Linn over to me. I wanted to be 100% sure that the coast was clear before we made our descent. I had one leg hanging down and was about to let my body follow, when my fuckin’ phone started to ring in my back pocket, making all kinds of noise. I damn near fell off the fuckin’ roof, that shit surprised me so much. I yanked my leg back up, grabbed Linn by her arm with one hand and ran back towards our apartments, pulling my phone out with the other.

  “Hello, hello!!! Who is it?” I yell-whispered into the phone. I have caller ID, but didn’t take the time to look. I just wanted to stop that fucking ringing.

  “Hey Dave, it’s Gus. Did you happen to look outside yet today? It’s the Zombie Apocalypse!”

  “Yeah, yeah, I fuckin’ know, I’ve been out in it for…,” I took a quick look at my phone to see the time, “…Jesus, it’s almost two, so, going on two hours now.”

  “Holy shit, are you kidding me!? Didn’t you see the news this morning?”

  “No, I didn’t see the fucking news, obviously. If I did, I would never have even stepped out the front door. Did you see the news, Linn?”

  “No, I didn’t see the news, either, Dave,” Linn answered.

  “Okay, so we didn’t see the news, Gus.”

  “Well, that sucks bad, man. What are you going to do? And who is that with you?”

  “It’s my neighbor Linn. And I’m at a loss as what to do, Gus. I have no fuckin’ idea. I was just gonna try and find us a place to hole up, see what came down.”

  “Well, what about your apartment, aren’t you there right now, if you’re with your neighbor?”

  “Yeah, we’re here, on the roof out back. Unfortunately, the fuckin’ building is on fire, and we’re gonna have to move real soon. I just killed a bunch of zombies to clear us a path to run, but I just don’t know where to go.” />
  “Me, Frank, and Sue are here at my place. It’s pretty secure, can you guys make it here?”

  “We could try, but we’re on foot. My car was in the middle of a feasting zombie horde last time I saw it, and Linn’s truck is fucked. Sorry Linn.”

  “That’s no good, Dave,” said Gus. “You know… I could come and get you if don’t think you can make it here.”

  “Nah, don’t worry about it, I’ll just steal us a car from somewhere. I’m sure there’ll be one somewhere on the way there. Won’t be a prob.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Honestly, no, bu-”

  “Then I’m coming to get you.”

  “NO! I don’t want you risking your life to come and get us, man! It’s bad out here, Gus!”

  “If that’s the case, Dave, you don’t need to be walking around out there, either. At least I’ll be in a fast vehicle with the doors locked.”

  “Fuck! Are you sure, Gus?”

  “Yes, I am sure. I’m leaving right away.”

  “Okay. Just do this for me then: drive that car like a fuckin’ tank, dude. Don’t stop for anything, and I mean anything. If someone tries stopping you, don’t, just keep going. It is a fucking madhouse out here. I’m sure you’re hearing the same shit I’m hearing, and from here it doesn’t sound good at all. Now, I know you love that car, Gus, but drive that fucker like a tank - trust me on this, like a tank - and get your ass here safe.”

  “Okay. Drive it like a tank. I’ll do that. Okay, I’m leaving, I’ll see you soon.”

  “We’ll be at the alley behind the bar waiting. Later.”

  8

  I really didn’t want Gus coming out here to get us, but at the same time I really didn’t want to walk clear to his place, either, even though he only lived not even a half a mile away. An easy distance on foot, at most times, but with thousands of flesh-eating zombies out looking for their next meal, I was glad to have a ride en route. Sure, I could’ve jacked a car, but the part where Linn and I would’ve been out there exposed while we looked for one, kept me from putting up a fight. I just hoped that he would make it, ‘cause it still sounded like a war-zone out there, and I was more than a little worried that another friend was going to end up dead before the day was done.