Z-Burbia 2: Parkway To Hell (16 page)

“I don’t’ know about that,” I say. “I was taken prisoner. I haven’t exactly had freedom of choice the past couple of days.”

“You messed with the gas,” Elsbeth states. She leaves it at that.

Fuck. She’s right. I did mess with the gas, which led me to get captured by Cowboy in the first place, and taken to Foster. It did all snowball from that moment where I thought flipping switches would fix things. I officially fucking hate switches and swear on my soul I’ll never flip t
hem again.

Unless I have to.

“I need to know why that woman wants you,” Mondello says, focusing on Elsbeth. “You tell me and Mr. Stanford’s family is set free. Don’t tell me and they start fighting some zeds. Even with Ms. Foster’s help, they won’t survive.”

“Please, El, if you know her
, just tell him how,” I plead. “Think of Stella and the kids.”

“I don’t know her,” Elsbeth says.
“I’ve never seen her before.”

Again, I don’t believe her. Mondel
lo doesn’t either.

“That is just too bad,” Mondello says. “Mr. Jameson?”

The whistle again and the Zs are set loose. Stella and Critter get in front of the kids, but Foster just stands there, looking at her feet. The Zs shamble their way across the cage; eager for the free meal they’ve been offered.

“Don’t’!” I cry. “Please! What else do you want? How about the Farm? I can get you in there! I can take you to some of Critter’s caches! There has to be something else! PLEASE!”

“You’ll do all of those things eventually, Mr. Stanford,” Mondello says. “Mr. Jameson is very persuasive.”

“You won’t get fucking shit fro
m me if my family is harmed!” I yell. “Stop this now or you get nothing!”

“Is that your only family, Mr. Stanford?” Mondello asks. “Or were there more of you on Z-Day?”

“There were more,” I answer. There were, but Stella and I don’t talk about it. It’s too painful what happened and what we had to do.

“Then you know what it is like to see family turned, don’t you?” Mondello says. “I know what it’s like also. I know the conflict that sticks in your very soul as you watch what used to be a person you loved turn into a flesh eating monster. I know that conflict very well. I also know the pain of having to make the decision of what to do with them.”

Fuck.

“Did you make any of those decisions?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say very quietly.

“What was that?”

“Yes, I made those decisions,” I reply.

“Do you want to have to make those decisions again?” Mondello asks. “I can arrange that for you. You see, Mr. Stanford, your pain won’t end when your family dies. It will just begin. You’ll watch them turn
, then you’ll watch them suffer as zeds in this very cage. Night after night, I will make sure you are forced to witness them fight humans. And I’ll make sure they win. I’ll make sure you see your beautiful little girl eat the intestines of a worker that strayed from the rules. I’ll make sure your son’s first taste of a woman is her bloody throat. I’ll make sure your wife eats the privates of every man that is put in there. You’ll get to watch her chomping cock and balls for the rest of your life.”

“No, no, no,” I say, shaking my head
, “don’t. Please.”

“Pleases get you nowhere,” Mondello snaps. “Nowhere! I only want answers, not pleases!”

“El?” I ask. “Tell him what you know.”

Elsbeth shakes her head. “I don’t know anything.”

“But you’ve seen that woman before, right?” I ask. “Be honest. Just tell the truth on that. I know you’ve seen her before.”

Elsbeth looks from me to Mondello and then down at the cage. She starts to get fidgety and shakes her head.

“Elsbeth!” I shout. “Please! For fuck’s sake!”

The Zs are almost to Stella and Critter.  They are ready for them, but there are too many. I count twenty Zs. No way Stella and Critter can fi
ght off that many, even if Greta and Charlie help. Maybe if Foster joins in the fight, but she isn’t looking useful right now.

“Elsbeth!” I shout again.

Her eyes lock with mine and I see nothing but fear. This is a woman that I have personally witnessed kill fifty Zs by herself. She’s saved my ass more times than I’m proud to admit. She stuck with us, with the people of Whispering Pines, even though Stuart killed her father. Which may or may not be her actual father. But, that’s beside the point.

The woman I know as Elsbeth
, is one badass mother fucker. She’s a killer, through and through.

But the young woman I see before me isn’t that Elsbeth. She looks ten years younger. Her fear is almost coming off her in waves. Whatever she knows terrifies her. But I have to ignore that. I have to think of my family. I have to do whatever it takes to help them.

“You have to tell me, Elsbeth,” I say, getting up and walking down to the chain link fence.

“Whoa there!” Cowboy shouts.

“Let him be,” Mondello says as I get to the fence.

I start to climb it, getting to the top and swinging a leg over. The crowd, which
had been cheering and yelling, goes silent as they watch me do something very stupid.

“Elsbeth, tell him how you know her,” I say
, “or I jump in with them. You’ll be alone again, El. I’ll be dead, Stella and the kids will be dead, everyone you’ve come to know will be dead. Just tell him the truth.”

“I don’t know her,” Elsbeth replies.

“But you’ve seen her before?” I ask.

There’s a long pause, but then she nods.

“You have? Where?” Mondello asks. “Where have you seen her?”

Elsbeth stays quiet, her eyes locked on mine. I no
d. She shakes her head. I nod again. She shakes her head. I swing my other leg over, wincing at the pain in my fucked up hand. She better answer soon or I have totally fucked myself. I can’t hang on much longer, even with my feet wedged into the holes in the chain link.

“Just fucking kill her,” Cowboy says. “We’re wasting everyone’s time. This chick is not part of the job. Who fucking cares if Foster wants her? Foster’s done. Look at her. None of this shit matters.”

“It matters to Ms. Foster so it matters to me,” Mondello says. “And you work for me so it should matter to you, as well. Got that, Mr. Jameson? We’ll waste as much time as I’d like.”

Speaking of wasting time, I can hear my children whimpering behind me. I’d love to turn and look, but my balance on the fence is pretty fucking precarious. I
f I even turn my head, I’ll fall in there. Which does no one any good. As long as I’m in Mondello’s good graces, I have a chance of saving my family. I just don’t have much time.

“Where have you seen her?” Mondello asks Elsbeth. “Tell me. Tell me now!”

“In my dreams!” Elsbeth says.

That’s not the answer any of us
are expecting.

“What was that?” Mondello asks.

“Huh?” I say.

“See? Fucking waste of time,” Cowboy states.

Mondello looks from Elsbeth to Foster and back. “Your dreams? Why do you see her in your dreams? What is she doing?”

The Zs are getting closer, I can tell from the sounds. In just
seconds, Stella and Critter will have to start fighting. I have seconds to fix this shit.

“Elsbeth, tell him about your dreams,” I say. “Tell him everything.”

“We’re gonna listen to some wackjob’s dreams? What the fuck?” Cowboy complains. “Maybe we should get a psychic up here. Do a tarot reading or two. Fucking A…”

“
Mr. Jameson, I won’t warn you again,” Mondello says. He reaches for Elsbeth, but she shrinks back. He smiles at her and if I didn’t know he was a total asshole, I’d think the smile was genuine. “Ms. Elsbeth-”

“Just Elsbeth,” she says.

“Okay, Elsbeth,” Mondello says. “What is Ms. Foster doing in your dreams?”

“
I don’t know,” Elsbeth shrugs.

“I think you do,” Mondello says.

“Jace!” Stella calls out. Elsbeth looks down there immediately, her face filled with concern. Mondello’s smile widens.

“Tell me, Elsbeth,” Mondello says. “And all of this can be over. Tell me what Ms. Foster is doing in your dreams.”

“She’s…,” Elsbeth starts.

“Yes?” Mondello pushes. “Go on.”

“She’s…well…she’s,” Elsbeth stutters. “She’s singing. To me. She sings to me in my dreams.”

“She sings to you?
” Mondello asks. “In your dreams you see Ms. Foster? And she sings to you?”

He looks down at Foster and narrows his eyes. I can’t see what she’s doing, I’m too focused on Elsbeth and
the fact that my arms are starting to shake uncontrollably. I won’t be able to hang on much longer, so I try to swing my leg back up and hook it over the top of the fence.

Yeah, that doesn’t work so well.

You see, part of surviving the zombie apocalypse is being very aware of your surroundings. Sounds simple, but it’s not. There are so many things in life that can distract you from the task at hand. Like now, for example, I should be thinking about the Zs inside the cage. You know, the cage that I am most of the way inside, hanging from the top of the fence. But I am distracted by the sounds of my family, by the look of fear on Elsbeth’s face, by the incredible revelation she’s just told Mondello, and by the fact that Cowboy keeps moving ever closer to where I am. I’m pretty sure the fucker wants to push me all the way in the cage.

So, those are the distractions. What did they distract me from? Oh, just two Zs that have shambled over to my position and are reaching their putrid hands up to grab me.

Which is what they do. Grab me.

“FUCK!” I yell as I’m yanked down into the cage. “OH, SHIT FUCKING COCK SHIT FU-!”

The last fuck is cut off as my back slams into the ground and all the wind is knocked out of my lungs. The two Zs are on me in an instant. I slam my good fist into the face of one, knocking it back, and then slam my bad fist into the other, doing nothing but causing some serious fucking agony to radiate up my arm.

“FUCK!” There’s that last fuck. It came back.

“JACE!” Stella screams.

“DAD!” the kids
yell.

“YAY!” the crowd cheers.

“LONG PORK!” Elsbeth cries.

“Rocky!” I shout. I just can’t help myself sometimes.

Sploosh goes the Zs head. And then crack goes a gunshot.

Wait…what?

“Who’s firing?” Mondello yells. “Hold your fire!”

The Z I knocked away doesn’t care what’s going on and lunges for me again.

Sploosh. Crack.

“WHO IS FIRING?” Mondello roars.
“HOLD YOUR FUCKING FIRE!”

Then the opposite of his order
happens and the night is filled with the sounds of automatic gunfire.

Chapter Eight

I roll to my side, see Foster lift her head, a seriously scary, and fucked up smile on her face. She actually winks at me as she takes off for the fence, leaps at it, grabs the top, and swings herself over. Landing right in front of a shocked Cowboy.

The two go at it fast, almost faster than I can keep track of. Not that I need to be paying attention to that. I should really be paying attention to the screaming coming from my family. Or the gunfire that’s taking out the guards that ring the outside of the fight cage.

I’m gonna go with family first.

I push myself to my feet and head straight for Stella and Critter as they start killing Zs. I come up behind a Z and reach out, snapping its neck as I sprint past. Doesn’t kill it, but it immobilizes the fucking thing. Its jaws snap at my ankles. Fuck you, ankle biter!

Another Z turns and tries to grab me as I come up on it. How’d the fucker know I was there? Doesn’t matter since I slam my fist into its face. I grab its lower jaw and yank it right off, then jam it in the mother fucker’s eye socket. Down the bitch goes!

Fuck yeah!

Ooof.

Two Zs come at me from each side. I’m tackled and then pinned, barely able to keep the things from biting me. I punch and punch, knocking the biting heads back and away, but they just keep co
ming back. What can I do? They’re pretty fresh Zs, so they have some meat still on them. And meat is weight. I’m stuck.

“Hey!
” Greta screams. “Get off my dada!”

Aw, she called me dada. Holy fuck
, she just stabbed one through the back of the head!

She yanks the rebar free and slams it into the skull of the second Z, crushing the bone and splattering rotten grey matter all over me. The Z shakes for a minute and then is still, forever. Greta flicks the gunk from the rebar and holds out her hand. I take it.

“Thanks, sweetie,” I say.

“No problem,” she shrugs
, “you need a weapon.”

“Yeah, I do,” I say.

“Can’t have mine,” she smiles then turns and runs at an oncoming Z. That’s my apocalypse girl!

The gunfight intensifies as Cowboy’s men return fire, finally seeming to get a bead on the location of the shooters. I glance over and see Foster and Cowboy in a deadly duel. Hands and feet are flying and meeting each other. Cowboy uses his strength and size while Foster uses her speed and agility. When he lands a
punch, she stumbles back; when she lands a punch, he cries out in pain.

In the pre-Z
days, you could have charged money on pay per view for this shit!

But, this is post-Z and they aren’t battling it out in
the Octagon for a stupid belt. They’re trying to kill each other. I, however, am in a fight cage and need to fucking pay attention to that fact.

A Z snarls at me and I sweep its legs. Before I can stomp its face in, Charlie slams that board with a nail in it down hard. Splat goes that fucker. He pulls the board, with the nail, free and looks at me, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Behind you,” I say.

His smile fades and he spins around, bringing the board up. Then down as the Z that was reaching for him meets some serious nail action. More splat. He looks over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

“Good one,” I smile. “Wouldn’t want to give your old man that board with a nail in it, would you?”

“
Don’t think so,” Charlie says. “Behind you.”

I smirk. “Ha ha.”

“No, seriously Dad, behind you!” he yells. “Duck!”

I do and board with nail swings over my head. I hear a Z grunt
, then look to my left and see a head tumble away, its eyes wide and jaws snapping open and closed. Charlie chases it down and crushes its skull, ending its bodiless existence.

“You better go get that one too,” I say, pointing to a Z creeping up on his sister.

Charlie nods and runs over to Greta, knocking the Z away and then standing with her back to back. My children haven’t had to fight like this in a long time; not since the early days of Whispering Pines. But, unfortunately in this world, they have had to fight like this. More times than I care to think about. So I watch them briefly (Head in the game, Jace!) and I feel pride swell inside me.

We may be from a subdivision, but damn can we kick ass.

“Jace!” Stella yells.

I look around and see her trying to free Critter from the corner he’s gotten himself backed into. Six Zs are after him and he’s doing a great job fighting them off, but they are too much for him. I see what Stella sees: he’s going to lose.

I dig deep and run hard, leaping and tackling two Zs before they can get to Critter. We go down in a tangle of living and undead limbs. I feel teeth try to bite into my arm and I yank back hard. Panic sets in and I look at my forearm, but there are no puncture marks, just some bruising. Thank God.

I drop an elbow on one Z’s head while I plant my knee in the chest of the other. Ribs start to crack and my knee sinks, sending me off balance as I try for another elbow blow. The first Z hisses at me and lunges, going for the kill bite.
I’m able to get my bad hand up under its chin and I push, keeping its face away. But the second Z, with the smooshy ribs, is twisting its torso about, ignoring the damage it’s doing to itself, and tries to chomp on my side.

I don’t hear the gunshots, simply because there are too many to sort through, but I do see the results as both Z heads explode all over me. I’m coated in Z brains as I shove the bodies away and get to my feet, wiping the gunk away and flicking it into the dirt. I try to see who just saved my ass, but there is too much chaos.

Guards are firing and screaming; the crowd is panicked and running for their lives; Foster and Cowboy are involved in some serious mortal combat. But where’s Mondello and Elsbeth?

Stella is at my side and hands me the baseball bat, since that’s kinda my thing.

“What about you?” I ask.

She raises a Beretta 9mm and grins
, then nods her head towards the far side of the cage. There stands Stuart with a quick wave and a nod. Then he’s burying a knife in the gut of a guard and tossing the man to the side while he jams his own 9mm up under another guard’s chin and pulls the trigger. Fuck, living blood is bright. You get used to seeing the dark, black blood of Zs so much that you forget what real blood looks like sometimes.

Not that I don’t have plenty of chances to witness it tonight. It’s fucking everywhere.

The bat feels good in my hand (don’t tell The Bitch) and I take a couple swipes before I step up to the last few Zs that are after us. Swing and a hit! Oh, another! That’s a double, folks! Z heads are crushed and their corpses fall, truly dead now. I look around and see Charlie and Greta finishing up the last Z that’s after them, each taking turns bringing their weapon down on the thing’s head. Pretty sure it was done for ten smacks ago, but why ruin their fun? They earned it.

“You okay?” I ask Stella.

“No, I’m not fucking okay!” she yells as she wraps her arms around me and kisses me hard. “Don’t ever ask a stupid question like that again!”

“No promises, baby,” I smile. “You know me and my penchant for stupid questions.”

“Come on!” Harlan yells from the cage gate. “Move ass, people!”

We do. I grab onto Charlie and Greta as we run by, headed for the gate. But dirt
kicks up in front of us and we skid to a stop. Two guards, close to where Mondello had been standing, are aiming right at us. They open fire again and we jump back, burying our faces in the dirt.

“Fuck you!” Stella screams and I look over at her.

She takes aim and fires until the 9 is empty and just clicking. I wait for the bullets to shred our bodies, but they don’t come. Rolling over, I look and see the two guards crumpled in the seats, blood pouring from them.

“Damn,” I say
, “nice shooting, Tex.”

“Wasn’t me,” Stella frowns. “I think every one of my shots missed.”

“Then who was it?”

Stella points to the far end of the cage and I see John leaning against the chain link, the barrel of his rifle resting through one of the holes. He smiles and nods
, then raises his eyebrows and looks towards the gate.

“Right,” I say. “We better go.”

We get to the gate and Harlan shoves us along, back around towards John.

“Where’s Elsbeth?” I shout. “Have you seen her?”

“The canny? No,” Harlan shouts back. “Was she here?”

“Yeah, she was here!” I say. “We have to find her!”

“We have to get out of here first!” Harlan yells. “We didn’t come here to look for that canny! We came to get you!”

“Fuck you, Harlan!” Greta yells. “She’s family and we save family!”

“She ain’t my family,” he replies.

“She’s mine,” Greta says, smacking the rebar in her palm.

“Hey, calm down,” Stella says. “Both of you. Harlan? Where are the vehicles?”

“What vehicles?”

“The vehicles you came in,” Stella says. “Don’t tell me you walked.”

“Then I won’t tell you,” Harlan frowns. “But we did.”

“Shit,” Stella says. “Then we need vehicles if we’re to get away from here.”

“What about all of these people? And what about Elsbeth?” I ask.

“I’m getting the kids in a vehicle and back to the Farm,” Stella says. “Are you coming with us?”

“Yes, of course!” I say.

We head around the cage towards the front entrance to the Grove Park and the parking lot. Pretty good assumption that’s where the vehicles are. We get to the walkway that leads to the front and stop.

Cowboy.

He lifts his hand and Stella screams, holding her hand over Greta’s eyes.

“Stop,
Mom!” Greta yells and shoves her hand away.

In Cowboy’s hand is the severed head of Foster, dripping blood from her ragged neck.

“Didn’t kill the brain,” Cowboy says. “She’s gonna turn soon. Want to watch? Ah, fuck it. I think I’ll just kill you.”

In his other hand is a machine pistol and he takes aim at us. Stella and I shove the kids to the ground, with Critter following right on top of us, but Harlan doesn’t make it. His body dances and shakes as he’s torn apart by automatic fire. The machine pistol jams and Cowboy swears, tossing it aside.

Chunks of pavement spray up between his feet and he leaps back, his eyes searching for the source before he drops Foster’s head, turns and runs. The head rolls down the slight incline and stops right by us. I kick it away and get to my feet, helping Stella up as Critter helps the kids up. The head just keeps rolling down the hill, lost in the darkness.

“Guess she lost that workplace dispute,” Critter cackles.

“Jesus,” I say, shaking my head. “Not now, Critter.”

“Got to give an old man his due,” Critter says.

“Vehicles!” Stella shouts, pointing up ahead. She takes off with the kids.

“What about-” I start, but a hand on my back, pushing me forward answers my question.

“Right here,” Stuart says.

“John?” I ask.

“Already on it,” Stuart says, nodding up ahead where John is standing, laying down covering fire while Stella and the kids, with Critter behind, sprint to an SUV.

“Any
one else?” I ask.

“Shep,” Stuart says
, “but he didn’t make it.”

“Neither did Harlan,” I say. “Sorry.”

“What for?” Stuart asks. “They were good men, but they knew what they signed up for. It was just a matter of time before something happened.”

“Yeah, but I’m still sorry,” I say. Stuart nods.

We get into the SUV and Stuart takes the front, while John takes the passenger’s seat. Stella and the kids cram into the middle seat and Critter and I hop into the fold up backseat. Gunfire follows us and Stuart gets the SUV started, finding the keys already in it. John leans across Stuart and rests the barrel of his rifle on the open windowsill.

“Sorry,” John says. “This will be-”

We don’t hear the rest of what he says because we all have our hands jammed against our ears as he opens fire. A man screams and then John pulls his rifle back, turns about and points it out his window, firing again. Another man screams. Fuck, Special Forces folk don’t fuck around. And I’m very glad for that.

Stuart slams the accelerator down and the SUV rockets forward. We dodge the laborers running here and there
, but barely stop in time as another SUV cuts us off.

“There!” I shout. “That was Elsbeth! And Mondello!”

“Who?” Stuart asks.

“The fucking President of the United States,” I say.

“If that’s true,” Critter says, “you may want to be a might more respectful.”

“Fuck him,” I snarl. “He’s a false leader set up to be the Consortium’s puppet.”

They all look at me like I’m crazy.

“It’s a long fucking story,” I say.