“Jesus Christ! Did you have to stomp out her brains?” Bud asked, looking a little green around the gills.
“I don’t know, Bud, did you want to get bitten?” Roosevelt shot back. Bud grunted and moved to the living room away from the gruesome scene. Johnny followed behind him and headed for the open front door. He eased it closed and then turned back to see Roosevelt using a white hand towel from the counter to wipe the brain from his boot. When he finished, he joined his two companions in the front room.
“Alright let’s search the place and then move to the next one. Times a wastin’!” Johnny said, heading up to the second floor. Roosevelt headed deeper into the main floor rooms and returned a few minutes later. Bud was staring out of the big bay window at the sheer carnage that had unfolded in his small town. Johnny came back down the stairs no worse for wear and stopped next to Bud and Roosevelt. They all three stared out at the numerous bodies that lay in the street. Some were starting to move again and then get to their feet. Roosevelt sighed,
“Oh no. The bastards got Miss Mary.” He said, sadness spilling onto his words as he spoke them.
“What! Where?” Bud said, urgency in his voice. Roosevelt pointed out to the house across the road and three doors down where Mary shuffled along with two other zeds.
“Sonsabitches!” Bud growled before turning and heading out the back door. The three men made their way to the next house killing two more zeds along the way. They entered the next house, again through the back door so none of the zeds out front could see them. The kitchen was a mess, dirty dishes were piled up in the sink and stacked on the counter next to it. The smell of old trash filled their nostrils as they moved deeper into the junk filled house.
“Whoever lives here is a hoarder.” Roosevelt said, stepping over boxes stacked in every spare inch of the house. Most of the boxes had the familiar As Seen on T.V. logo emblazoned somewhere on them and stacks of magazines sat crooked on what they could see of the dining room table.
“This place is so disgusting the damn zeds wouldn’t bother to come in here.” Johnny said, waving a hand under his nose.
“Well you disrespectful little shit!” A gravelly voice sounded from behind a stack of boxes next to the dining table causing them all to flinch and bring up their rifles. A decrepit old man stepped out from behind the boxes holding a double barrel shotgun that looked to be twice as big as he was. The only thing the man had on was a pair of stained tighty whities and an Iraq Vet ball cap.
“Frank, what in God's name are you doing living in a shithole like this?” Bud asked, not caring if he made the old man mad.
“Why don’t you mind your own damn business and get the hell out of my house!” Frank shot back.
Bud held out his palms, “Look I didn’t mean to disrespect your house. We’re just going through checking for survivors that can help us kill those things outside.”
“I don’t care what you’re doing, just get the hell out!” Frank said, leveling his shotgun at the intruders.
“Alright, alright! We’re going.” Roosevelt said, backing up toward the door. He bumped into a stack of boxes and watched as they avalanched into the floor. Bud shook his head and followed in Roosevelt's footsteps making sure to miss any more stacks of junk. Frank closed the door behind them and flipped Bud the bird before pulling the blinds closed and returning to his lair of garbage.
“Well that was interesting.” Johnny stated as they walked over to the next yard which had a white vinyl fence around it. They found the gate and pushed it open to see several bodies on the back lawn, each with holes in their heads. The back door was open, and a man known as Mick stood inside drinking a tall can of bud while he stared out at the mess on his back lawn.
“Mick you alright?” Bud asked, concern in his voice.
Mick let out a long breath, “Yeah I’m alright. Just never thought I’d be killing kids.” Mick pointed his chin at a still corpse at the bottom of the pile of dead.
“Whose kid?” Johnny asked, feeling somewhat ashamed for even asking.
“Not sure. They all just wondered back here earlier so I took them out.” Mick shrugged, holding up and silenced, twenty-two magnum rifle.
“You up for helping us clear out the town?” Bud asked. Mick tipped his beer up and finished it before tossing his empty into the trash.
“Sure! Why the hell not?” Mick said as he grabbed a box of bullets and stepped out onto the back porch.
“Well? What’re we waiting for?” Mick asked as he headed down the stairs. They four men went from house to house as quietly as possible killing zeds where they could and gathering up survivors when they found them. By the time they had made it all the way through the small-town hours later the sun was starting to sink toward the western horizon.
“So how are we doing this?” Roosevelt asked from the back of the small crowd of people. They had found twenty-seven people that were holed up inside of their homes waiting for help to arrive. Each person already had their own weapons and spare ammo that Bud had issued them. Bud stepped forward in front of the crowd of people and held his hands up to quiet them.
“Alright
