Short Story 17

The Zombies

There was one man on the entire planet that I trusted unequivocally. A man that I knew would always have my best interests at heart. What was strange about him was that he was a complete stranger, that I had just witness kill several men.

I guess circumstances have a lot to do with how you behave. I mean in everyday life I would never contemplate killing someone, or get in a strangers van. After all, I was conditioned that way; years of social habituation is a lot to consider…but then again, you can only ever know what you’re truly capable of when the intensity of a situation demands the appropriate response.

Take yesterday for instance, I was literally minding my own business, drinking tea on the go because coffee was never my thing and I needed something to warm my hands in the cold of the morning. My internship was demanding but good nonetheless. It woke me up at ungodly hours like today and sent me home late at night, but I was getting firsthand experience on how a movie set works behind the scenes, and I was living in another country so it was actually kind of incredible.

Anyway, I was walking towards a major intersection when I noticed a car parked over one of the crossings, and I even remember taking a mental note about how such a thing was completely inconsiderate. I stopped in my tracks just before I reached the corner because even though I had headphones in, I could hear this weird drone through the music.

Just as I pulled my left earphone out, a horde of zombies came pounding around the corner. Apparently this was another one of those zombie flash-mob things that seemed to be all the rage lately. I still had somewhere to be, so I decided to continue through the zombies, which was difficult to say the least, considering the sheer amount of brain-eating enthusiasts coupled with the amount of noise they were making with their moaning and groaning.

I kept getting knocked from one side to another and I remember trying to reason with them to no avail as I pushed zombies aside, “Guys, I’m all for the undead movement but I’m trying to get somewhere, can’t you just go around me? No? Seriously?”

Honestly, if felt like those zombies would never dissipate, but there weren’t many cars on the road, so I tried my luck in the street. A black sedan with no plates swerved and nearly took me out, at which point two zombies jumped out of the car. I thought they had gotten out to apologise, but the way they were moving towards me told me otherwise.

I tried to back away from them but then two of the zombies from the group behind me grabbed me and shoved me into the boot of the car. I struggled and tried to scream when they put their hands on me, but one of them had his hand over my mouth. Which was his mistake on their part because I promptly decided to bite as hard as I could once I realised I was being overpowered.

I managed to kick one of them, who then ran his fist into my face while another bound my legs and hands with some sort of rope. They closed the boot lid and I was in darkness.

I tried to control my breathing because I was working myself up to hyperventilating. When I got myself together, I padded my pocket for my phone and cursed when I realised it was in my bag that they had thrown away from me.

Thinking about the many cop dramas I had seen it seemed as though I should have had an honorary degree in fictional police situations. The only idea that popped into my mind as the car began to move, was to kick out one of taillights in the hopes that the police would pull the car over and I could scream and yell to get their attention.

Not wasting any time, I shimmy my way into a position so that I was completely on my back and steadied my body by grabbing onto a ridge above me with my hands and positioning my foot on the right taillight.

I counted down and then kicked over and over again before I finally felt it shift. On the final kick it finally gave in and the light popped out. By that point, I had used a significant amount of energy and I relaxed my body in relief as I welcomed the light that the taillight hole gave.

The car screeched to a halt and I heard two doors open and shut before the boot opened. One of the men spoke in a deep, solid voice, “I do not take kindly to people damaging my car.”

The other zombie pulled out a needle, squirted it and smirked through the costume makeup, “This is going to hurt.”

Both of them lunged toward me, holding me down as I struggled against them purposelessly. I didn’t remember anything between then and waking up lying in the middle of a forest.

The first thing I noticed was the twigs and rocks stabbing me in the back, and the fact that I was still bound. The second thing was two men in front of me and judging from their builds I easily guessed they were the zombies out of costume. I heard them arguing about what they should do, something about the fact the compound had been attacked.

I pushed myself off the ground so I was sitting and propped up against a tree, and as I did, they received an incoming transmission from a handheld radio, “We’re sending three teams to rendezvous with you. Your orders are to keep the asset safe. Do you understand me? Under no circumstances let the enemy get their hands on her. Only move out when all three teams arrive and get to the beta site as soon as possible.”

One of them grabbed me and walked me over to where they had been standing, as the other pulls out an assortment of guns. Four men almost got shot as they ran up to our position, I assumed they were one of the three teams when team zombie didn’t shoot and promptly put down their guns.

The new men reported that the second team was down, and that they had lost radio contact with the other team. Which was a bad thing apparently, judging by the serious faces and random military hand signals that happened.

They flanked around me in a diamond formation but not before they gave me two options, I moved with them and didn’t try anything stupid or they knock me out and carry me. I figured any chance of escape would only be possible if I was conscious so I agreed.

We moved further and further into the woods, but then suddenly a male voice from above me in the trees yelled, “Down!”

I complied without hesitation and dropped flat to the ground, much quicker than two of the men who were struck in the chest by multiple sharp metallic arrows that were fired from a metal disc that dropped from the tree canopy.

Before their dead bodies could buckle to the ground, a man wearing a black leather full-length trench coat that moved dramatically like a cape with each movement, had dropped from the trees onto one of the zombies. In one swift motion a blade was inserted in his throat, pulled out and thrown at one of the other men, landing in his heart.

There were still two more men, but using the man he had stabbed in the neck as a shield and his gun as the weapon, the man from the trees opened fire on the two others. They didn’t last long with all their bullets hitting their fallen comrade rather than their target.

When they were all lying lifeless on the ground of the forest, their red blood spilling across the green foliage, the man from the trees walked over to me, helped me up, and laughed as he joked, “Christmas brings out all the crazy people. Come on, we have to get out of here.”

By Naomi Eleanor


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