Chapter Six *Brains and Confused*
Chapter Six
*Brains and Confused*
So, I met my wife and I didn’t eat her or her brain. Now that’s fucked up. The hunger was in complete control at the time and all it did was tell Sara to run? With my head hung down in confusion, all I could think of was why I felt the way I did for her when I had no clue of who she was. I drew a blank when I thought of Sara, but then again that isn’t surprising since a shower loofah has a better memory capacity than me. For the un-life of me, I couldn’t understand how I could feel anything for someone I had never met. As if being a zombie wasn’t hard enough, now someone has to throw in feelings of lost love?
I looked up at the stormy skies and shook my fist up at it in anger just as a flash of lightning brighten up my world. Whose sick, twisted idea was this? Was it God or some other jackass playing with my emotions, like I’m their character in their shitty written horror novel? I swear, if this goes all Warm Bodies on me, I’m out of here! Everyone knows that true love conquers the zombie apocalypse, right? Does this mean that I will turn back into a human? With that thought, I couldn’t hold back a sickly belly laugh.
I maybe dumbfounded by recent events, but I wasn’t in pain at the moment and that meant more to me than all the brains in Washington D.C., which was considered starvation station for zombies. I haven’t got a clue if Sara is alive or not. She ran into a building being chased by a decent size group of my brothers and sisters so chances are she’s been picked clean to the bone by now. I felt sad as that image entered my worm-infested brain, the need to find her grew inside me and it hurt just as the hunger does.
The hunger in me was waging this pity party and I’m sick of it already. It’s one thing to cause me unbearable pain when I needed to feed, but now it wanted to do the same with Sara. Can a dead guy catch a break or what? I’m starting to feel like the butt of someone’s joke. Once more I look to the sky and mentally cry out, “Are you amused yet? Is this the entertainment you’re looking for?” I shake my head in disgust, no one should have to live like this, not even the dead. As I shambled forward, I caught the whiff of sweat and beer and the roars of multiple motors revving up.
I let what’s left of my nose guide towards a small alley. I peered around the corner and beheld a terrible sight. A group of humans, sitting on motorcycles, had several of my sister tied up and were yanking them back and forth like a Yo-Yo. Several men were beside my sisters, taunting and touching them. And people called me a monster? As I shambled forward, one of the guys reached out and tore the clothes off one of them.
“She aint much to look at but she does remind me of your ex-wife, Jonny.” The perverted man announced.
“That’s because she is my ex-wife, though I must say she really let herself go.” Jonny answered back as he took a swig of his beer and spat it in his ex-wife’s face, “There’s your alimony payment for this month, bitch.”
Why must they do this sort of thing? To be so cruel to someone they use to know ate away at me more than it should have. Was it due to my encounter with Sara that I was having such strong feeling about this or was it because these dickless boys were mean and needed to be eaten? There were too many of them for me to deal with so I turned around and shambled back towards the street where I found a large swarm of zombies marching my way. They looked famished and starved to the point of being emaciated. Perfect. I got in front of the swarm and felt like I was rustling cattle as I pointed towards the alley and rasped.
“BRAINSSSS!”
I can’t take full credit for steering them, the sadistic idiots down in the alley was making enough noise that I was surprised that more of my brothers and sisters hadn’t found them. The swarm was big enough that it filled the small alley, leaving no room for any to escape unbitten. Hell, of all the alleys around here, these bozos chose the one that was a dead end. And the Darwin award goes to….the biker buffoons! Let’s all give them a round of applause, shall we? Come on, don’t be shy, you know you want to.
Drinking and zombie torture isn’t a good combination as the guy on the middle motorcycle found out. He was chugging down a long neck as two zombies bit down on either side of his neck before yanking him down to the ground. His motorcycle leapt forward, knocking down the man named Jonny and releasing the slack on the ropes. The naked female, Jonny’s ex-wife, took her opportunity and fell on top of him. He cried out as she bit down on his lips, talk about love at first bite, before leaning forward and breaking into his brain box.
The other men on the motorcycles panicked as realization hit them that they may have screwed themselves with this spot to torment helpless zombies. There were seven guys, armed with whatever melee weapons and guns that they had on them versus a tidal wave of zombies crashing down on them. I would say the odds were not in their favor, though they did put up a valiant effort for like two minutes. Before long, the sweet symphony of terror and agony assailed my maggot-encrusted ears as each man got engulfed by the swarm.
My job here is finished and justice has been served with a heaping slab of steaming, farm fresh brains. I would be skipping down the sidewalk if I had the coordination for that sort of thing, but I feel it would rank up there with my stair stepping ability. Instead, I did the next best thing: Humming. It sounded horrid and cringe-worthy, but I loved it. Think of a heavy slab of concrete being dragged down the highway by a grunting strong man and comes pretty close to what a humming zombie sounds like, good trivia information for later. Several zombies that I passed on the street glanced over at me, trying to discern what I was doing.
My jovial bliss came to a halt as the screeching sound of jets flew overhead. Well this can’t be good, I thought as the next set of jet rained down their payloads onto the unsuspecting city. Explosions rocked the ground that I stood on, causing me to tumble over. I really need to get out of this city, a zombie could get killed here. I stood up and shambled as fast as I could as a massive wall of flames seared through the streets, scorching many innocent zombies in the process. I wasn’t about to die again like that, many of my brothers and sisters burned slowly before finally succumbing to the flames.
I saw light shining all around me in the darkness. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from because I’d gotten far enough away from the explosions that it should’ve been darker here. Then I caught the oddest odor, like rotten meat that’s been left in the over for too long. Oh crap, I’m on fire! I glanced over my shoulder and saw the flames were playing piggy back with me. How rude! Now what am I supposed to do about it? It was warm but it didn’t hurt me like I imagined it would but that didn’t mean that I wanted to walk around the city as the undead version of the Human Torch. So how do I put out the flames of my demise?
The hunger within me took control of my body and for once I felt relieved at it. Maybe it knew more about fire than I did? All I know is that it chose to make me run, to where I don’t have a clue, but that didn’t seem to help. It more or less fanned the flames on my back as the first drops of rain began pelting my face. Great, I’m going to be wet and barbecuing at the same time. Can this night get any worse? More explosions caused the city to quake all around me as another massive wall of fire raced towards me as I streaked across the street. Ask a stupid question…
I heard the sounds of people screaming somewhere off in the distance as more explosions leveled this crappy city. Death from above, now that’s both unfair and cheating. Come down here so I can bite your head off and throw it in the flames! As the rain came down harder, the fire on my back died down slightly. It flickered and danced like it was trying to play with me. I wasn’t paying much attention to my surrounding until I got the distinct feeling that I was free falling. I looked down just in time to see a concrete path greeting my face. On impact, my body bounced like a rubber ball of flaming decay and toppled over into a shallow sewage canal. I rolled over onto my back so I could figure out what happened and in the process, inadvertently snuffed out the fire on my back.
I was in an underground tunnel that reeked of bodily fluids and rotten eggs. The walls were in-laid with brick and mortar, rats scurried in and out of the many gaping holes. I stood up as everything shook from more of the explosions up above, dirt and debris rained down. It was as safe a place as anything that was up above me but I had a feeling that if I stayed down here too long, I could get buried under rubble and starve.
I shambled through the nasty toilet water, the floor beneath it was slick in spots and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what I was stepping in. As I wandered aimlessly through the tunnels, the hunger reared its ugly head, demanding food. I moaned uncontrollably as the pain hit me full force. Why did I have to run away from the flames in the first place? I should’ve stood my ground and let my body be consumed by the flames so I could be rid of my miserable existence. The hunger seemed to disagree with suicide and chose self-preservation. So how am I supposed to go back to the snuggly comforts of my grave? I’m tired of the pain and the terrible atrocities that I have to inflict on others in order to survive. I’d gladly welcome a cave-in if it would finish me off but I dread the thought of being trapped, forever in pain.
I moved as fast as I could until I found myself in an expanse opening. It was a place that multiple tunnels, several had recently collapsed, intersected with a large cesspool of nasty green water, surrounded by garbage, boxes, and other discarded items left to rot. Reminds me of an old 80’s flick about a bunch of homeless people that get sick from toxic waste and turn into man-eating monsters. Look, mom! I’m a C.H.U.D.! Yep, I fit in quite nicely here. All I need is a refrigerator overflowing with brains and I would be set for life.
I could hear the echoes of more cave-ins somewhere behind me so I was grateful for this little pocket of nastiness. The hunger as well as the pain urged me to leave and find some mobile, two-legged meals, though I’m not sure they will be lively. Char-roasted brains and flesh would be an interesting new flavor of the month. I’m dining on little Timmy so pass the barbecue sauce, please? I shambled over to a set of iron rungs embedded in the concrete wall. I look up and see that they led to a small hole that light cascaded through in spots tiny enough that my fingers could slide into. I carefully climbed up the rungs, every part of my body screaming from pain as pieces of me flecked away. I want an elevator and room service, is that too much to ask for? I mentally screamed but as I did, my feet slipped of the rungs and down I fell.
On the way down, my jaw smacked six rungs. I know because I counted them. Part of my body landed in the sewer water and the right side of my head cracked square on the concrete pathway. This just isn’t my day, I growled as I worked the fractured pieces of skull back into place the best that I could. A skull jigsaw puzzle that I had to do by touch alone, its great fun for the whole family!
With pop snap here, and a pop crunch there, I had fixed my brain dead head. I won’t be winning any beauty pageants any time soon but in the meantime, I can eat the contestants which technically would make me a winner? I grasped the iron rungs once more and went for attempt number two. This climbing thing is difficult but more so now that I’m all slimy from the cesspool below. Slow and steady gets the brain, Rob, I used as my mantra while ascending Mount Sewerwall.
As I neared the metal cover, my hunger took over and with more than my body could possibly have in it, it launched the cover in the air like it weighed nothing. That’s right, I’m bad! I scurried up on the street and heard gunfire coming from in front of me. My body had small explosions popping all over it as bullets tagged me like I was the last man standing in a paintball war against twelve other players. I looked at the individual shooting and could smell his bravado and fear wafting in the air. I lurched forward, hoping this Rambo wanna-be would finally end my existence. Come on, John J, hit the sweet spot already.
He was using two small caliber weapons on me, probably .22, and all it did was annoy me. Break out your zombie killing bazooka already. The man gave me an “Oh shit!” look as his guns clicked. Sorry buddy, you’re shooting blanks now. The desperation and panic flooded the man as he threw his guns at me in some last minute attempt to slay me. Yeah, that always works pal. He turned around and prepared to run but as I reached for him, the oddest thing happened. You remember that metal cover I knocked into next week? I didn’t know it but it finally found its way back to the present and landed the guy’s left leg. It snapped like a twig as the man fell, shrieking in pain as the bone pierced through the skin.
I scratched my head in disbelief at that fortunate turn. After the night I’ve experienced, this makes up for all of it. The man was literally severed up to me on a platter, or metal cover. The hunger raged through me as I took a hold of the blubbering Rambo and lifted him up so we could see eye to putrid eye. Then a spark of courage shot through the desperate man before me as he grabbed a hold of my neck. He squeezed as hard as he could, trying to pop my head off like a teenager’s zit. I could feel his fingers digging into my slime covered flesh. Ewww, how gross! I haven’t got a clue where this man has been or if he washes his hands regularly. I’m not catching any of your sickly cooties!
I reached up and snapped the man’s right wrist, he howled in pain but shrieked more as I let him stand on his own. As his left leg buckled underneath him, the man released his death grip on me and crumbled on the street. For good measure and to show him who was in charge of this melee, I dropped down on him with my full weight so he couldn’t squirm away like a snake.
“Please, don’t eat me! No…Please…not me…”
Sorry pal, but you did try to kill me first. He tried with all his might to get me off of him but all it did was marinate his brain with adrenaline, fear, terror, and all other emotions in between. I bet he taste great so without further ado, I snarled as I lifted his head up to meet my mouth.
“BRAINSSSS!”
With a pop and crunch, the man granted me his savory little brain. The man’s body quaked as I fed, like he was being electrocuted. As I delved deeper into his heavenly cranium, I bit down on a part of the brain that tasted different. I reached into the man’s skull to root around for whatever was giving off that funny taste. I wasn’t sure exactly where it was so I snatched a handful of this succulent brain matter in my hand and pulled it out to examine it, which is difficult to do when it’s so addictive and mere inches from my drooling mouth.
After thoroughly gazing at it…I had nothing. It was a massive black ball of goo about the size of a quarter. Seeing no other course before me, I shove it into my greedy mouth and chewed it up slowly. It tasted like brain, blood, puss, and other fluids. Not the most appetizing piece of brain I’ve eaten, but hey, it’s not like I can get sick from eating this thing…right?