They didn't have to search long before they found thecutlery hanging above a prep station. Zeke grabbed a shiny, stainless steelcleaver off of a hanging rack and he handed Lou the next biggest knife, awicked butcher knife that wouldn't look out of place in Michael Myers' hands.
"Let's go," he said.
Lou followed him without questioning, which was a goodsign as far as Zeke was concerned. All he did was say, "It's a shame wecan't stay and cook a steak. I've never had the scratch to eat in a place likethis."
"You can stay if you want to, but you're more likelyto become dinner than to eat dinner."
"Fuck that," Lou said as Zeke pushed his wayout the emergency door in the back of the restaurant. He could hear glasscrunching underneath someone's feet as the door swung shut behind them. Thosethings might move slow, but they sure had a way of sneaking up on you.
Which is why he wasn't surprised when they were confrontedby the one-armed corpse of a custodian on the other side of the door. Thecustodian snarled at him, his jumpsuit covered in old gore. That wasn't thedisturbing part though. In the custodian's teeth, he saw bits of hairy fleshstuck between his two front teeth.
"Alright, Lou. Aim for the head. That seems to bethe only way to drop one of these motherfuckers." Lou swung his knifesideways as the wayward janitor reached for him with his one remaining arm. Theknife glanced off of the man's skull, filleting a nice flap of skin off theside of his head, but doing little else.
Zeke stepped in with a well-aimed chop to the back of thecreature's skull. The cleaver stuck and the zombie stood there jittering about,but he was still alive.
"Use it like a spear, Lou. This ain't the damnmovies. That thing isn't going to cut through bone like that."
Lou nodded in understanding and stabbed the knife throughthe custodian's eye. He fell to the ground and Zeke stepped on his head andpulled the cleaver free, wiping the blade on the cleanest part of thecustodian, which took a while to find.
"Nice work," Zeke said, "now let's moveour ass."
Lou was breathing heavily as they continued theircross-town jaunt. The piercing noise of the alarm from the steakhouse had drawnall sorts of the creatures from out of the woodwork.
"You up for a jog?" Lou asked.
"Well, I better damn well better be," Zekereplied.
They took off running at an easy pace. Weaving in and outof the dead people that had been drawn to the alarm. They managed that for someblocks, and then the years of smoking began to catch up to Zeke. His lungsburned with fire, and sweat poured down his face. His legs felt like rubber,and it was all he could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other. In gaspingbreaths, he managed to ask, "How much further?"
Judging by Lou's lengthy breathless reply, he was in muchthe same situation as Zeke, "Not much further. Only a couple moreblocks."
They ran down the middle of the street now, which wasideal because it kept any random dead people from springing out at them fromalcoves. The sun blasted down at them, the shadows disappearing from the streetas it rose into the sky, bringing forth the heat that had disappeared with thenight rains.
Down one alleyway they saw a man fighting ten or more ofthe things with only an umbrella in his hands. Neither of them slowed theirrubber-legged jog. They came to the very center of town. Burnside was a widestreet with two lanes of traffic heading east and west. The road was cloggedwith stalled cars, their doors open, and blood staining the pavement. Smokecurled into the sky from the east, and to the west he could see entireapartment buildings burning. Zeke's mouth dropped open as he saw a person jumpfrom the top floor and plummet to the ground.
Lou grabbed him by the arm, and they weaved through thetraffic jam of empty cars. The dead were everywhere, and the cars were only aminor inconvenience, as they sought to get their hands on Zeke and Lou. Theymade it to the other side of the street after cutting back and forth throughthe rows of cars to avoid the dead. It was if they were playing a real-lifeversion of Pac-Man... only there were no power pellets, but Zeke hoped thatwould change when they got to the place Lou was talking about.
When they finally made it to the other side of thestreet, they sprinted down the sidewalk. Lou pulled him towards a squat brickbuilding with three floors. The windows were boarded up, but judging by thesqualid look of the building and the neighborhood, he wasn't sure that it wasbecause of the situation.
They ran around the side of the building, dodging randommonsters and their outstretched claws. The entire building was shaped like aletter C. A tall, wrought-iron gate blocked off the empty courtyard while awing of apartments to the north and south rose above it, blocking out the sun.They scaled the fence, and landed with a thud on the other side.
Zeke finally took the moment to look at his hand. It wasstill gushing blood. Behind him, he could hear groaning and the banging ofcreatures on the gate.
"C'mon. Let's get inside," Louis said as hestrode across the courtyard. The walls were littered with graffiti and emptycans of cheap beer and malt liquor. Cigarette butts covered the sidewalk. Louwalked up to the front door and tried to turn the handle. Nothing happened."What the fuck?" he said as he tried again to the same result.
"Nobody home?" Zeke asked.
Lou stood back from the door and yelled up at a windowabove the door. "Gary Lee! Let me in! It's me, Satchmo!"
Lou pounded on the front door, and finally a man openedit, a man with a very mean looking submachine gun pointed right at them. He wasbig, black, and very muscular. His shirt could barely contain his arms, and hisJheri curl shone in the dim
